TES V: The Thinking Chair
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "Come on, drink until it feels like you did the right thing." - With his irritating companion engaged in a wild goose chase, a lone magician plans to spend the day drinking. However, when an acquaintance of his makes a sudden appearance a discussion begins over their circumstances; and the booze just keep coming. A sequel to "Nothing Like Home", and the fifth entry in the TES saga!
1. Tattle-Tale

**The Thinking Chair**

 **(A/N):** Always punctual, aren't we? Well at least it's finally here!

During the initial planning of this series of stories, this instalment didn't actually exist. However, following Stradlater's little adventure on his own with Scales and Gath I realised something... Just what the hell was Wonders up to during this entire period?

The original plan was to just insinuate what he was doing at the end of the last story and move on, but I sensed an opportunity to create an additional story that explains what he was up to in the meantime. Hopefully this story works out in deepening the purposefully mysterious backstory of Wonders whilst simultaneously giving depth to a side character that's never really done much :O (Notice my subtle foreshadowing there? :3)

I'm still incredibly rusty after the exams... But hope beats despair! Let's get started :P

 **WARNING:** Spelling errors, mildly inappropriate language, surprisingly detailed sexual discussions, bad jokes, a notable lack of Stradlater, me trying to detail the mental processes of a woman despite having a knob, a not-too-subtle rip off of a certain novel, and a moral that goes all over the place!

 **Chapter One: Tattle-Tale**

" **You were always the generous type."**

" **What can I say?"** Wonders spread out his arms like the graceful wings of an eagle, accepting the well-deserved praise of his merit and worth. He returned the bow, the entire morning nothing more than a performance to him. **"Might as well spread a little love, yes?** **"**

Shaking his head from side to side as if it were the bosom of a working girl, Stradlater barged on past him and walked for the front door with his shopping list on hand. There was something about the way his hips swayed to accommodate his sheathed blade and its scabbard that made him look a lot like the magician's granny. Give him a handbag, a tail, and make his skin a tad bit _less_ rough, and he'd have the perfect alibi for an even more perfect crime.

As the Redguard shouldered his way out of sight with an unnecessary amount of heroism in his gait, Wonders continued to suckle on the lip of his ale like a cannibalistic toddler on the teat. **"... Redguards are terrible."** he said to no one in particular, kicking at his table childishly. **"They're compensating for something with those curved swords."**

He listened intently.

 _No retort._

 _No punches to the face._

A wicked and giddy grin that would put a conniving dragon to shame sprouted across his gob. He never thought he'd see the day, but here he was: entirely on his lonesome and without his companion there to tug at his hood and hold him back. It only ever seemed to happen once a year, and yearly things tended to involve all sorts of celebration. This would be a day that children lauded in the near future.

Wonders lazily rocked his chair back and forth, leaning to the side to stretch out and filch a neighbour's ale without the effort of getting on his feet. True, the whole rocking manoeuvre took enough effort to give his arse a six pack and hair, but it was more about making a statement than anything else. Feeling particularly charitable that morning, Wonders left his dazed victim a small tip for his troubles - a couple of dated septims to make it worth his while.

 _Sainthood, here he came._

To be fair, maybe it wasn't Stradlater's fault that he was generally an incredibly dull person to hang around with. Maybe all the frantic bludgeonings he took from draugr and bandits and other ne'er-do-wells day in and day out snapped a couple of his funny bones. As much as it hurt his ego to say it the Redguard was a damn good sword to have handy, and he needed some muscle to keep himself standing. The charred nomad was the best guard he could get his hands on. Certainly the only guard that could cope with his sheer _bodacity_.

But that didn't change one simple fact. Since their arrival at Whiterun months back they hadn't so much as left eachother's company for an instant, sticking together like horny teenagers whilst clearing out bandit camps and adventuring across Skyrim. They seemed to sit together every consecutive night, drinking the same piss-swill ale and eating the same maggoty beef and exchanging the same overused jokes time and time again. Call him needy, but he couldn't maintain his tip top and happy go lucky personality twenty-four-seven. He needed a break from time to time, you see.

He glugged a bit more. The drink of that Nordic neighbour of his seemed to have some crunchy bits in it. Generally that wasn't a good sign, but the Argonian reluctantly dealt with it. If anything, it was probably good for the teeth and gums.

Of course there was no potion, surely the Redguard understood that. Even he wasn't _that_ thick, was he?

 _Slendoor's Legs._

 _Nyce's Thighs._

 _Pert's Bottom._

 _Sounded like the title-act at an Orcish brothel._

Wonders had never actually been to an Orcish brothel before, but he'd heard a couple of rumours about their existence in the more " _civilised_ " reaches of Tamriel. In those few places where you couldn't solve all your problems by kicking its head in, some holds - in the absence of males - apparently offered sexual favours to those who had a particular taste in green mer with serious dental problems. Wonders didn't really get the allure: You could always shag a mouldy, gangrenous corpse instead.

 _At least they wouldn't fight back._

 _Certainly smelt nicer._

Making sure to cross his legs 'less his mace's head grew bulbous and unruly, he gave the _Mare_ yet another do over with his vigilant eyes. It was a tad bit challenging what with his eyes being on the side of his head and all, but he made do. This little spot in the tavern had been his from the very first day that he and Stradlater had started crashing there. Gave him a secure view of the entrance, a straight shot to the John, enough shade for the rare sunny day, and a nice angle on the bartender whenever she bent over. Which was quite a lot, what with the oven and all.

This was the sort of spot that you'd advertise on a sale at an estate agents. He should've gotten a lease on it before any pretenders got the drop on him; this was a quality square metre of soil. Monuments could be erected here for all to partake in their magnificence.

When the door was thrown open, Wonders made sure to keep his gaze low and his cowl up. The bartender was just about to turn over some bread, and would've been exposed at the rear flank for at least a full ten glorious seconds. But there was always the risk that the latest client was a close friend of hers who wouldn't take kindly to his hobby, or a fearsome daedric death lord with enough pointy bits on his helmet to please the most devout sadomasochist.

 _He honestly feared the former more._

With a jingle of jewellery and coin that would entice even the most restrained of thieves, an armed woman wrapped in an elaborate orgy of Elvish and Nordic armours paced into the scummy hive of the _Bannered Mare_. She would've been quite the intimidating figure, if it wasn't for the fact that she was a little bit of a midget. Wonders, as his namesake implied, honestly wondered in complete silence if she'd used some sort of step-ladder contraption to reach the door knob. Or had she done a running jump, using her momentum to throw the door forwards?

He would've kept spouting out all sorts of snarky comments and began bubbling at the snout with laughter, but he was quick to realise just who this tiny person was. Taking the appropriate course of action, he let his body slouch into his seat and did his very best to try and slither down and hide under his table.

Faelindra, the sole Bosmeri Housecarl of Whiterun and one of the guard's most skilled warriors, strode past the bar with the exact same swagger Stradlater had departed with. Was this some sort of cruel metaphor dripping with deep metaphysical meaning, or was it just one big bloody coincidence?

 _Regardless, the woman made it work._

 _Even he wished he had hips like that._

Sauntering past the counter with feminine confidence and masculine pride, the walking contradiction gestured at a bar wench with a flick of her thumb. Either it was a gesture for her to kindly sod off before she shoved that particular digit up her arse or it was a request for a drink, because regardless the bartender scarpered off into the back room like mudcrabs were clicking at her heels.

Wonders did what military officers frequently commanded during combat, and kept his head down low. It's not that he disliked the Bosmeri housecarl, far from it: She had the unique honour in his eyes of being regarded as " _someone he'd met_ ". However, this was supposed to be _his_ day. _Wonders_ Day. The first of many celebrations of individual worth and merit involving him getting royally doused on his lonesome. Call him a loner - which he totally was - but the only company he wanted right now was a bottle of Alto Wine and a modestly sized Argonian bosom that possessed its own orbit.

Faelindra leant her back against the counter for a moment, probably finding it too problematic to make a running jump for one of the stools and going for a safer bet. The Bosmeri eyed the clientele for a bit like any guard would, who all suddenly seemed very interested with the texture of their tables or shoes. Either fooled by their good behaviour or not too bothered, the elf took up the flagon she'd ordered and muttered a gentle " _cheers_ " under her breath.

When she faced in his general direction, Wonders decided to stay calm. Being scared certainly wasn't the most productive choice in the world at the moment, especially when you wanted to keep a low profile. He did his best to stifle his trembling, but that didn't stop all the cutlery on his table clinking together to sound like somebody's neurotic grandmother with a tray of tea.

Faelindra spotted him and set off from the counter, waving towards him genially. Wonders did the logical thing and tugged at his collar, like any other sane person would.

 _There's someone behind you, don't worry._

Still she kept moving, closer and closer with every heartbeat. The Argonian gritted his teeth: there was no shame in fear, only in letting it _rule_ you. He was being a perfect example for aspiring Argonians everywhere, his trembling and shuddering controlled by pure common sense and that alone. He wasn't worried. _Nuh-uh_ , not one bit.

 _There's an open seat in this direction._

Maybe not worried, but certainly a tad bit terrified. This was supposed to be his _day_! Was this secretly being orchestrated by the Redguard behind his back? Was he currently standing at the doorway laughing his little burnt bum off while his ex decided to ruin the magician's morning? Faelindra took up the seat opposite of him, where the nomad had sat moments prior - she probably didn't notice all the soot and sweat that Stradlater tended to leave behind. She called his name curiously.

 _There was another Argonian called Silent-He-Wonders here._

 **"Uhh, Wonders?"** Faelindra asked, hunkering down uninvited. The Argonian almost resembled a floppy children's toy left on the bedside in a generic horror novel. " **Did someone remove your spine when I wasn't looking?"**

Employing his elbows and arse cheeks once more, Wonder snaked his way back up in an impressive display of grace only ruined by his perpetual grunts of effort. The magician sat up as straight as he possibly could, doing his best to laud his superior height over the Mer. **"... Hello, Bosmer."**

It seemed he remembered her, which was surprising enough on its own. **"Thought I'd find you around here**." she said, folding her arms atop the table. **"Haven't gotten any harassment complaints about you so far today. Usually means you've stayed indoors."**

Wonders scowled at the mention of it. It was true that the citizens of Whiterun often didn't take kindly to his tirades and speeches about the superiority of the Argonian race. Yet they were perfectly content with letting some deranged Stormcloak sympathiser scream at the top of his lungs at Dragonscreach as if he'd stumped his toe on spear point. **"Oh, I'm on break."** he admitted apologetically, **"I'll make sure to put in some overtime tomorrow."**

Faelindra half-nodded, feigning amazement at his " _dedication_ ". **"You're an inspiration to us all."**

 **"Damn right I am!"** Wonders took her words at face value, making sure his ego grew yet another flabby chin.

There was an awkward silence following that. There weren't many types of silences in the realm of Tamriel, yet it always seemed that the awkward sort happened the most. Wonders couldn't recall the last time he'd had a meaningful silence, or a romantic one. Not even a super duper serious one filled to the brim with pauses and ellipsis's, which was the best kind by far. Eager to not add to his personal statistics, he broke it over his knee.

 **"Any particular reason you're here?"** Wonders leant forward, hoping to entice the wood elf with his lovely mane. **"Or are you just eying the goods? They're off limits to elves I'm afraid, in spite of your desires"**. He took particular pleasure in teasing non-Argonian women, reminding them that they'd never get a chance to have his pants on their bedroom floor.

 _Most of them seemed to just laugh._

 _Sad laughter though, right? Pretty sure that exists._

Admittedly, the city guard took some small comfort in letting the magician speak. It certainly gave her eyeballs some exercise, letting them spin about in their sockets like the gyros of a Dwemer contraption. **"Don't flatter yourself Wonders."** she decided to not just force reality in his face, but instead clobber him silly with it. **"When I look at you, the only desire I feel is the desire to pull out your tongue and play it like a lyre."**

Wonders blinked. **"... Is that some sort of kinky euphemism?"**

It certainly could be. **"Depends on what you're into. Up for it?"** the ranger asked, pushing down on the table and rising to her feet. The Argonian raised his hands in surrender, prompting her to sink down with mock disappointment. **"** _ **Kill joy**_ **."** she frowned, accentuating the faint purple swelling under her eyes. **"I'm taking the day off. Might be hard for you to comprehend, but patrolling the gates of this city every night tends to get a tad bit tiring. I only just finished my shift, you know."** she rose up her glass like a goods peddler, nodding at it in a way that could only be described as " _mildly condescending_ ". **"Felt like a drink to take the edge off."**

 _A drink this early in the morning? What a sad, sad woman._

 _Wonders downed another round._

Knocking back what was left of his flagon, Wonders offered a toast of respect. **"Then here's to you."** he rocked it back and forth, trying to ignore the rattling sound at the bottom of his mug. **"Whenever I'm getting royally flummoxed, tugging tarts or having a snooze, I'll know that I owe it to your noble sacrifice."** he nodded to himself in pride, commending his valiant and merciful words. As Faelindra returned to sipping from her own brew, he couldn't help but ask _the_ question. You know the one. **"... Ever tipped one of those cows at Pelagia Farm while on duty? When no one's looking I mean."**

Her reply was dripping in so much sarcasm that she could feel it pooling up to her knees. **"... I make sure they're looking. It's all about sending a message."**

 _Oh, he liked her._

 _She was his kind of scum._

Sealing the deal with a flurry of frantic nods, the two returned to - believe it or not - awkward silence. It's not that they _wanted_ to be quiet. If anything the only way they could survive the horror that they'd put themselves into was to spend the entirety of it talking. But honestly, what was there to really talk about? So much of Wonders' commentary was based purely on taking the piss out of the smelly Redguard that he tagged along with all the time, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that Faelindra was of the same mindset. Without Stradlater, they had less material than your average Bard.

 _They needed him._

 _By the Hist and the Hunt, that was pretty freakin' corny._

At least he was putting an effort in, if he said so himself. The Mer wasn't particularly good at sustaining conversations, although that was expected from someone who came from Valenwood - an underdeveloped woodland where people spent most of their time talking to rocks and trees whilst simultaneously eating eachother in more ways than one. He doubted most of the Wood Elves were the charismatic sort in civil society, what with the bits of elven and human flesh stuck between their jagged rows of teeth. That tended to sour the mood.

But speaking to Faelindra? It felt like talking to that one special needs kid that everyone knows. You know the one who your parents forced you to be friends with, and refused to listen to you when he started showing you his strange and mildly horrific hobbies?

 **"I thought you'd be a lot more talkative than this."** he thought aloud, his magnificent mind so overflowing with cunning and logic that he couldn't help but vent the valves every now and then.

Faelindra took it well to be truthful. He expected a tantrum or something; that's what women tend to do, isn't it? " **You've only heard me speak around the boys."** she pointed out, lowering her tankard to scratch at the brim of her nose. The way she said " _the boys_ " instantly put the image of a female coach who gave her students sexual favours whenever they did well in the magician's head, which goes to show a lot about Wonders' general state of mind. **"When I'm off duty, I kind of just..."**

 **"** _ **Fael**_ **?"** his wit launched into overdrive, slinging out the classic play on words. The Bosmer looked at him with either suppressed blood curdling _rage_ , or suppressed blood curdling _fury_. He couldn't quite tell, but it was clear that she needed an explanation - possibly with pop-up pictures and scratch'n'sniffs. **"** _ **Fael**_ **? As in-"**

After a moment of consideration, she nocked her own retort and let it loose. **"I** _ **wonder**_ **when you'll be** _ **silent.**_ **"**

 **"That was forced."** Wonders tutted, disappointed by her lack of gusto.

 **"You're one to talk."** she snarled, those sharp and unrealistically perfect teeth of hers flashing as she reached for her flagon again. How many people had she cannibalised and eaten? How many people had she gone to bed with and " _eaten",_ too?

 _She must've liked her meat burnt and charred._

 _Was Sentinel famed for its red meats? He didn't quite know._

Noticing the magician deep in thought, she gave him the most belittling pout she could muster - one she usually only spared for cheaters and certain Redguards. **"Don't worry your little green head, Argonian. Give me a couple more drinks and I'll be the heart of the par** ty."

 **"My green head isn't little..."** he whispered to himself in shock, taken aback by her forward nature. Was she so bestial that she spoke about such sensitive sexual topics out in the open? What sort of twisted backwater did the Bosmer come from? Because he wanted to go there. He crossed his legs with a feminine flourish, subtly shrouding his private mace. She was like a teen's mother at a family meet-up, sharing stories of all the terribly embarrassing things their child did in their baby years. Simply, Wonders wanted her gone. **"Can't you just hang out with your guard friends?"**

Faelindra shook her supposedly ordinarily sized head. **"Thing is, they're not my friends."** she informed. In the grand scheme of things there was no point in being anything but friendly towards the people you work with, what with it making the day pass easier. That didn't mean she and her fellow guards shared any common values beyond an affinity for giving bandits a right bollocking. **"I don't have many friends really."**

Just look at her. She was a Bosmeri killing machine armed with a shield, a hatchet, and a shortbow with enough arrows to fillet an entire hold. She was _probably_ a cannibal, and she was _definitely_ the head of the Whiterun City Guard. There wasn't a single person in the whole of Nirn and every other alternate reality combined that actually _liked_ the city guard, going around with their burly arms folded, spouting out all sorts of nonsense about your weapon preferences - usually wrong - and shamelessly plugging local stores. Wonders stared into his flagon, counting the crunchy bits wordlessly. **"Gee, I wonder why?"**

 **"Well I think-"**

 **"** _ **Hypothetical**_ **."**

More slurping, the atmosphere of low mumbles that encompassed the tavern growing louder and louder in the void. By the Hist, Wonders felt so out of place. Was this what it was like to be on a date with someone, downing cheap ale until your partner started looking shaggable? Maybe that was it, and she was subtly coming on to him - date rape brought to a whole new level. He wouldn't judge her for it; few women could control their feminine impulses and hold back their liquids in his presence. The mage supposed that some people just wanted a lean, mean, green fighting machine to keep them safe in this cruel world of theirs. And when it came to all the above and then some, he delivered.

He glanced over his tankard like an entranced voyeur peeping over your garden hedges. Maybe she just wanted to have a chat about something? Didn't some people just like to gather and gossip about absolutely nothing, gaining sod all from the experience save for the knowledge that no one is having a good day? He certainly couldn't care less, but maybe - just _maybe_ \- if he satisfied her insatiable needs she'd shove off back to wherever she came from and give him the rest of the day off.

 _Do, or do not. There is no try._

 _No greater words had ever been spoke._

Tapping into his true power, the Argonian kept an eye on the _Mare's_ front and only door. He never quite understood the logic of putting a single door on an Inn and Bar that served a populous enclave and could host around fifty people at any given time. As if evacuating in an emergency situation was hard enough with drunk people as it is, having a bunch of Nords all trying to squeeze through the same door at the same time - while overwhelmingly funny - would generally be a tad bit detrimental to the clientele's state of living.

Wonders nudged Faelindra's shoulder as the door was shoved open. She stirred with confusion, looking like a king being caught nodding off at a small council meeting. Making sure she could actually see, Wonders nodded at the entrance. **"See that bloke?"** he asked her, pointing forward. She pivoted to see said bloke, only for the magician to pull her back around. **"Don't stare."**

After a moment's pause, she snuck a stealthy glance at the man. Rest assured, she'd seen decomposing bears that looked more appealing. She'd seen maggots eating decomposing bears that she'd rather have touching her nubile body. Gritting her teeth at the trauma and agony her eyes were going through, she turned back for a breather. **"He's burning my eyes as it is. Why would I stare?"**

 **"You're looking at Elsewyr's greatest swimmer."** Wonders conjured up on the spot, trying to think of the most unbelievable and bogus story that could, in some ways, be considered possible. **"He's here on a championship to lap around Whiterun's canal with his class."**

 **"He's a Nord."** Faelindra pointed out, her voice as flat as her chest. No man had the lung capacity to inflate her imagination to a sufficient volume. **"If you ask me, he's** _ **too**_ **hairy to be a Khajit."**

Ignoring this, he pressed on the assault. **"Bet he's ordering something fancy to show his class."** he offered, as the swimmer called down a bartender and got his hands on a bottle of scotch that must've been drier than a female draugr with severe congestion. **"By the Hist,** _ **Khajit**_ **swimmers. The worst kind of swimmer."**

 **"You obviously haven't seen a Bosmer swim."** the wood elf sighed, watching the supposed sports star skip off from whence he came. **"It's a lot of flailing and splashing, interrupted by occasional bouts of drowning."**

Subject number two followed not long after, the offending article coming through with a buddy in tow for twice the fun. **"Okay, what about this bloke?"** Wonders pointed out. He was a large mercenary with enough scars on his face to get an orc chieftain to pull down his pants and bend over in respect. **"Look at him. Wolf pattern on his chestplate, wolf fur on his back, a wolf pelt on his head, a wolf sigil on his palm. Even a wolf on his wolf wolf."** he snickered enthusiastically. **"Call me a detective, but I've a sneaky suspicion that he likes wolves."**

She must've began understanding the game at this point, weaving the most outrageous tales for whoever entered the _Mare_ to pass the time. She gave him a do over; he certainly wasn't her type. He seemed the sort who used mating calls and dancing rituals to find women, offering them corpses as courting presents. **"With a face like that, probably likes them a bit** _ **too**_ **much."**

 _They called it "doggy style" for a reason._

Wolfie overheard the suspiciously well timed chuckles of the table over yonder, inhabited by a scrawny looking woman and her Bosmeri companion. He exchanged a glare with his wingman, likely incredibly self conscious about his intimidating visage. Their eyes fixed on the couple ahead, they took a seat by the door judgmentally. Rest assured, the span of their bulbous arms alone interfered with at least half of Wonder's view. He honestly wondered how they would manage to eat and drink without getting stuck on or breaking something.

Like the relentless torrent of a flood yet another victim waltzed in, his body taking quite some time to escape from the cover of the mercenary's girth and catch up. He looked like a right sort of work - the poor bastard had a _comb over_ for crying out loud. Wonders pounced like a feral cougar on a rich preteen boy. **"You thought he was bad, what about this gentleman?"**

Faelindra took a while to speak up after stealing a view, no doubt overwhelmed by the man's head of hair - or rather what was left of it. **"Question."**

The Argonian said **"Shoot."**

" **What's up with your accent changing every two seconds?"** the Bosmer asked, doing her best impression of the Redguard and raising an eyebrow to such death-defying heights that he swore it began to tremble from vertigo. **"You didn't speak like this the first time we met. You've got the consistency of a baby's first dump."**

This of course struck Wonders as being a bit odd, who loudly blinked with unexpected self critique. Did his voice and inflections change at all? He'd never really noticed, and Stradlater had never commented on it. He just spoke how he did, interjecting a couple of witty words or his phrase of the day as any other ordinary person did. Why was she suddenly drawing attention to something like that, like the awkward erection of a priest at a wedding? He shrugged it off, like he often did. **"He's here on a tip off reckon."**

She continued as if she hadn't said a word, which only served to make Wonders even more self conscious. **"What sort of tip off?"** she squinted through the crowd, spying on Lord Comb Over as he leant against the counter and tapped the barkeep on the shoulder - rather personally, mind. **"He's talking to the bartender about something."**

That was more than enough evidence to charge him, rough him up a bit, and put him on trial. **"She must be his source, the rascal."** the Argonian concluded. He glared at him with a mixture of disgust and jealously, his scales a furious green - which is pretty insignificant if you consider the fact that they were green in the first place. **"Look at him: Bald hair, big beard, pot belly. Bet he's got a Chaurus fetish."**

 _Perhaps he liked a lady with legs?_

Viscount Comb Over the Fifth of Bruma shook the barmaid's hand so eagerly that he could've powered an ancient locomotive for decades, before snatching a piece of paper with some scribbled shorthand on and scarpering off into the unknown. His podgy gut swung from side to side, empowered with enough velocity to lay out a giant in one fell stroke. **"And there he goes, off to lose his virginity."** Faelindra narrated wistfully, the man's courageous adventure continuing. He may have not been in their eyes, but he would remain in their hearts for all of two minutes. She added an addendum at the sheer insanity of his needs, **"... Probably his knob in the process."**

 **"Well, I did say it was a "** _ **tip off**_ **"** Wonders replied, pretending as if that punny punch line was the entire point of their chat. Rest assured, he thought he pulled it off quite convincingly - he wasn't punished for his pun by the pundit before him, that's for certain. **"Although he'd need to actually** _ **find**_ **it first."**

Faelindra hadn't actually noticed until now, but throughout the course of this little game she had managed to get herself into quite an enjoyable rhythm of drinking. Her brain was starting to fizzle, and her digits beginning to tickle. She'd always been a bit of a light weight to be fair. It must've had something to do with her height, although she often reminded people that she was a bit taller than your average Bosmeri woman. Why, not too long ago she'd met an Imperial woman that she was the same height as!

Regardless, in a few hours time she'd be the same height as anyone else in the _Mare_. Because she'd be laid out on the floor, drowning her sorrows with round after round. Grabbing all those regrets and doubts that filled her mind and holding them under the waterfall, fighting with their flailing and thrashing forms as the last of their breath faded away.

 _They always came back though._

 _Back to mock her silly, the bastards._

 _It wasn't even funny anymore._

 **"How did you lose your virginity?"**

I took Wonders a good few moments to realise that it was Faelindra who was asking this question. Now he'd heard quite a few unannounced questions in the past; this was a man who spent a good few years stuck in a classroom with a bunch of Nordic mage wannabes with less of a grasp on reality than a moon sugar addict. Still, this one was quite a high ranker in his list of strange questions. He'd have to put it up there with the classic _"Why're_ _you such a derisive prat, you thick piece of faecal matter_?" and _"Why're you following me?"_. He coughed purposefully, **"...** _ **Lose**_ **it?"**

The Bosmeri rose her eyebrow as if this was no big deal, and nodded her head.

 _By the Hist, she was sex mad!_

Had she killed before? Was this how she got to you, keeping you distracted by having you question your state of sexual accomplishment as she straddled your lap and took you on a magical ride through time and space? The Argonian was honestly worried for the entire _city's_ wellbeing, let alone his own. Would he be the first of many? How many people would be admitted into hospital for crushed pelvises after tangling with this nymphomaniac?

Of course Wonders kept his cool; he only whimpered once or twice before finding his voice again. **"... Why, I got around so much in my boyhood. How could I remember some random fling with one of Black Marsh's many beautiful babes?"** he propositioned, trying to turn the question around. He saw his chance, and leapt for it like two mortal enemies going for the same sword in a thrilling finale. **"... Actually, why are you even asking you perverted little midget?"**

Faelindra wasn't a mother. She wasn't the sort who could see a face and suddenly work out their entire life story; what they did for a living, what they were thinking, how many millilitres of milk they had in a fortnight and the like. With that in mind, the fact that even she could say - without hesitation - that the only thing Wonders had ever had sex with was currently occupied clutching onto a flagon filled with crusty things just went to show how obvious the truth really was. **"Not much to talk about."** she snarked, hoping to convey her understanding in her tone of voice alone. With anyone else, it would've probably worked. **"Figured there might be a funny story involved."**

 _Oh, he could tell her a story._

 _One big issue though._

 _He still knew exactly where his virginity was, and it was always on his person._

Part of him considered what was at stake in this unbelievable scenario. Trying his best to avoid having his life flash before his eyes, he decided to do what he was born to do as lord of the bluffs. And so he improvised. **"** _ **Funny?"**_ he nodded, which was rather underwhelming. **"Well, if you must know I've got quite a story to tell. One full of pain and despair, and enough kinks to make a Daedric dominatrix blush."** he announced with so much enthusiasm that he could practically hear the advertising agencies mailing him recruitment forms. **"I actually met a Daedric dominatrix once, you know. 'though that's a story for some other time."**

 _Why, she'd almost been his Destiny._

 **"You have my ear."** she smirked, holding her hands together on the table like a general at one of those weird strategy tables with all the cool pieces. **"... Don't drop it."**

Wonders began without so much as a pause, aiming for full-on speed. **"Right then. Several years ago, I was a student at the College of Winterhold. In my class we had the honour of having one of the Archmage's twin daughters in our midst, Lissandra. My age, Aldmeri, blonde."** this story was actually true to an extent. During his days in school the Archmage did indeed have a daughter called Lissandra who went to the same class as him. Sat in front of him in fact, her goofy elvish locks and even goofier pointy ears completely blocking the blackboard. She was a right bitch, if you wanted to keep it PG. **"Of course she had an eye on me from the very start.** _ **Everyone**_ **seemed to stare at me and whisper to eachother during my college days... I guess my aroma got to them."**

 **"Anyway, sometime during her third week in my class we're leaving the Atrium, as we often do, when suddenly someone rams into me and shoves me into one of the cleaning cupboards."** Wonders recalled, his jaw shuddering in memory like a PTSD victim in an interview. **"It was Lissandra. She closed the door behind us, and blew out the candles."**

She'd beaten him up next. Like most high-strung elves she couldn't handle his mature and debonair attitudes. Maybe it was the " _Out with Mer_ " slogan on his satchel, or his frequent speeches in the courtyard against lesser races, but something in the barbaric animal snapped that day and she decided to unload that pent up anger on him. Like the brute she was she dragged him off where no one could see his struggle or hear his cries, and thoroughly kicked his head in - with his own shoe.

 _He should've made it a threesome with the twin._

 _Come on Wonders, don't be so modest._

Now came the creative part. He didn't want to lose his sole audient, who watched on with an expression of disbelief - the good or bad kind, he couldn't quite tell. Maybe he should've toned it down? **"She pulled her robes off in one motion."** he imagined, digging into his mind for his favourite quotes from the many erotic fantasy novels he read. These were the big winners; the ones he ripped from the books and hid under his pillow with all the others for use during his private me time. **"... Cor, her underwear. Gave "** _ **skimpy**_ **" a new meaning with how ghostly and translucent they were. You could probably get into a lifelong philosophical debate with the greatest scholars over whether or not they even** _ **existed**_ **."** he gurgled, **"You could've used her body at one of those Temples of Kynareth as a humane form of euthanasia, and the wounded would die** _ **happily**_ **."**

 **"And the breasts..."** he began to nod off into his own Lalaland. Now to be perfectly honest to himself, few things turned him on more than seeing Aldmeri and other lesser peoples submitting to his greatness. Yet this was something he couldn't quite let out; just think of the scandals! **"N-Nothing on an Argonian's of course, but you have to remember that this was my first time! I was naive!"** he clarified, to which the Bosmer nodded in apparent understanding. Satisfied that she'd fallen for his dastardly ploy, he went back to tooting his own horn. **"I wanted to hold them near me. Wanted to draw a face on them and make them my new best friends. I was but a schoolboy, and she was but a schoolgirl, trapped by the authority to wile away our days reading books - forever expressionless in the sexless robes that we wore. And right then and there, totally kitless, we were _free_."**

Faelindra suddenly interrupted, like the joy killing city guard that she was. **"There were no candles, how could you even see?"**

He hadn't seen _anything_ on the day. That was the entire point of the location. That way when the door opened and she let in a bunch of her friends to help kick his head in, he couldn't see their faces. After it all happened, he had no one to blame - he'd just tripped on a conveniently placed wheelbarrow and " _fallen down the stairs_ ". Wonders dealt with the insubordination professionally. **"Shhh, my story."**

The daft bitch had actually left the room when her posse came in. She even had the guts to take his shoe with her, which he sadly never saw again. Only the Hist could truly know what horrors befell his shoe, but he wished it the best of luck in the afterlife. **"She turned away from me, leant forward... Started to peel away what was left. I was inches away from two taut hummocks of golden flesh that just** _ **begged**_ **to be squeezed together and polished to resemble two shining orbs of topaz."** nothing else had happened at this point. The group got tired chinning him repeatedly and eventually left him in the cupboard all bloodied to writhe in a cage of torment. He wasn't quite sure how long he spent in there, but he was conscious for the most of it. Ever tried sleeping when your head feels like it's been kicked in, because it just has? Not the easiest task imaginable. **"... She asked me to stand up. I did as she said, slouching forward so my third leg didn't reach her an hour before the rest of me of course."** he exhaled steamily, **"Lissandra beckoned me closer..."**

 _What happens next?_

Filler was the obvious solution. There wasn't a single issue in any story that couldn't be solved by pointless filler. He was like your ordinary novellist, trying to bolster the word count and make his work look more epic by filling it to the brim with big, hard to spell words like " _Antidisestablishmentarianism_ " and " _Separate"_.

 **"My entire body was just** _ **engorged**_ **with blood. It wasn't even going around anymore, it just stood entirely still. I guess my brain was too fried to get it moving."** he cooed, **"My tongue was hanging out all gooey and gross, refusing to budge and sit back inside my mouth where it used to fit."** here came the hard part. The whammy. **"... And Lissy said** _ **'I've fallen for you, Wonders. I've realised just how enticing your stellar bod and slender tail truly are. You're sharp, funny, and you don't like yourself so much that you've got no like left for me.'**_ **"** he looked at the Bosmer to gauge her response, always caring for his audience. She was absolutely gobsmacked. Good. **"Uhhh...** _ **'Now do things to me'**_ **".**

If for some strange reason you'd actually believed in the pile of tosh he was spouting from the start, you certainly wouldn't now. Who could honestly accept that another sentient being called the Argonian _selfless_? Maybe a dead thrall without a head or a legless drunken lout, but an _actual_ person? An actual, _three dimensional_ being? The continued existence of the Dark Brotherhood was more plausible. Faelindra made to raise a finger, only to feel something on the cushion she sat upon. She rose slightly, glancing at her rear to discover a strange black powder staining her chaps. She sniffed at the air like a hound. **"... Is this soot?"**

Wonders continued as if he'd heard nothing. Well, that's because he hadn't heard anything in the first place **. "I had to snap my jaw back into place and roll my tongue up like a blind of course, but the door was thrown open after just three hours."** he retold, not even noticing his overuse of the phrase " _of course_ ". In actuality he'd been found by the college's janitor at some point, who after laughing at his misfortune for a solid five or six minutes gave him a shoulder and took him off to Miss Marence, who eagerly dealt with his injuries. Of course having that happen wouldn't be particularly good for the image he strived to maintain, so he chose something a bit more " _radical_ " and " _hip_ " for the " _mad bants_ ". **"It was her dad, the Archmage. You see, he wasn't too keen on having his lovely daughter shagging a cunning and noble Argonian fellow such as myself. I suppose the scales and my more than adequate size reminded him too much of his wife. He let me finish of course, but not before challenging me to a duel to the death like the racist pig he was."**

Faelindra stood by the side of her seat, examining it curiously. Yep, that was soot. **"This is soot."** she reiterated necessarily, 'less you hadn't caught up yet. It wasn't hot at all, so it must've been there for an incredibly long while. **"Why is there soot on my chair?"**

Alas, Wonders was far too engrossed in the marvel of his own creation to even register her insignificant words. **"We met up in the courtyard. Lissandra came into the crowd limping about and walking funny after what I did to her of course, what with the sheer monster she had unsheathed from its scabbard. Regardless, she watched on."** after his little incident with the Aldmeri bitch and her pals, Wonders had actually returned to class with a hushed tongue. His feelings hadn't changed in the slightest of course, but there came the frightful realisation that of his six man class - including himself - five people had come to beat him up on that day. He was no mathematician, but he came to the same conclusion that anyone else would. The whispers continued each day.

 **"The Archmage was all furcoat and no knickers of course. Tried to catch me off guard with some cheeky ice magic, 'though his frostbite felt like his mother sighing in disappointment."** he snickered at his wit, using the same line his destruction magic teacher had used on him time and time again rather than taking a moment to actually help him work out the issues he was facing and support him in overcoming them. " **So I did what came natural. Summoned a Dremora Lord to slice his head off, set fire to it with a couple of firebolts here and there, booted it across the College grounds and launched it off into the stars where it probably floats to this day."** Wonders hissed triumphantly. If that had ever happened in reality, he would've aimed for the students and teachers - set all of the pompous, spiteful, horrendous _gits_ alight like a funeral pyre. That would've been one heck of a bonfire. He'd need more than a couple of marshmellows for that, maybe a full-on rotisserie with drinks and dancers?

 **"And so the Archmage was defeated, and the dame achieved... And the game of Daedric Hoops invented at the same time."** he said in epilogue, crossing his legs and leaning back into his seat. **"Of course that was enough to gain me the title of '** _ **Archmage of Winterhold**_ **', which is why the usual barmaid frequently calls me that. One wonders why she isn't here at the moment..."**

Having finished his tale, Wonders snapped back into present day just in time to have front row seats to the Bosmeri Housecarl, as she awkwardly dusted away at her bottom. He hadn't noticed it until just now. Was she slapping herself in jealously, saddened by the fact that she hadn't been in Lissandra's place? Was it some sort of strange courtship thing for Mer; a mating ritual? Satisfied for the moment with the state of her clothing, Faelindra sat back down. **"... So that's how you lost your virginity?"**

The Argonian nodded, almost sounding forlorn in its absence. Virginity was a nice thing to hold close - something you could flaunt in a slave trade. **"They never found it again."** he sighed, licking at his snout to dab at any wayward tears. It was a pity that Lissandra had beat him in such a hostile way; there was no way you could make " _beat up_ " sound as sexy as " _beat off_ ". **"Lissandra though, just..."** Wonders motioned his hands over his chest, miming the shape of a rather voluptuous pair of tits. Of course this only caused Faelindra to raise an eyebrow. He needed to remember that this wasn't Stradlater before him, as manly and square-chinned as she looked. **"... The things that woman could do with mead bottles, I tell you. There must've been at least four that she fit right up _and_ opened with he-"**

She loudly snapped her fingers to jog him out of his perverse fantasy, hooking her flagon with an aggressive boxing swing and chugging at the dregs of her booze. **"You honestly think I believe any of this?"** she said. Once she'd finished of course, 'less she choked on it. The tankard came down with a loud, dull clunk. **"Absolute** _ **fiction**_ **."**

 _Thanks for the clarification._

The story teller mirrored her to the letter, holding his empty cup by his mouth. Still hankering for more, he tipped those strange chunks onto the same knocked out Nord beside him - he really should check his pulse at some point - and gestured at the barkeep for some refills. This was going to be a long night, and he'd rather have another companion besides the wood elf before him. **"Well duh."** he shook his head condescendingly, **"I** _ **did**_ **say that it was a story."**

 _X_

 _(A/N): Chapter one! Took much longer than I thought it would once I got it going :O_

 _Suppose it's harder to write now that I'm not at school. It's easy to get lost in writing when it's all you can do in the study base, but right now I'm sitting in a bedroom surrounded by all sorts of potential distractions..._

 _Anywho, it appears that our unlikely pair are well on the path to getting pissed off their heads! However, with the conclusion of Wonders' story of surprising depth that could allude to teenage trauma being what turned him into the conceited prat he is today, what could Faelindra have to top it? How did a tiny Bosmeri warrior like her who appeals to a very specific demographic of fetishes lose her virginity?_

 _... Pretty sure it's been hinted at before, but we'll know for sure next time on Sonic X!_


	2. Soft Spots

**(A/N):** Never a good sign when you walk into a chapter having only a vague idea of what you're trying to do...

Regardless! When we last joined our pair of disappointingly sober weirdos, they'd become locked in a conversation concerning how they'd lost their virginities!

Speaking about this as if it were a perfectly normal topic and not a tad bit strange at all, Silent-He-Wonders took the initiative and composed his own death-defying tale regarding how he shagged his first woman. The key word there being " _composed_ "! D:

Now we return several hours later, with the lizard and the cannibal having had a few more booze since...

 **WARNING:** Spelling errors, mildly inappropriate language, surprisingly detailed sexual discussions from someone who's never even attempted having a relationship, bad jokes, a notable lack of Stradlater, me trying to detail the mental processes of a woman despite having a knob, a not-too-subtle rip off of a certain novel, and a moral that goes all over the place!

 **Chapter Two: Soft Spots**

You'd be surprised how easy it is to find charcoal and chalk in a tavern. It'd taken them little more than five minutes to gather some of the larger, more appealing chunks and drag them outside to the front door like ethnics to the slaughterhouses. If you asked them why they'd done this, they probably wouldn't have any specific answer. They'd likely already forgotten their reasoning. They were bored? It seemed like a good idea at the time?

The Argonian leant against the doorframe and brushed elegant strokes with his chalk, shaping faint curves as if they were strands of stray hair upon a lady's cheek. He licked his tongue - a feat that few other species could achieve - and focused on the piece he was composing. This was a new form of art; a revolution in the making. People would rue this day - _Wonders Day_ \- not only as a celebration of his magnificence, but also of his elaborate artistic acumen.

 _He was pretty sure "rue" was the right word for that._

Faelindra, of course, was quick to protest. **"Are those tits?"**

 **"How immature do you think I am?"** Wonders muttered, insulted by her woefully lacking perception. For a Bosmer she certainly lacked an understanding of the big picture, and the grand scheme of things. With careful flicks of his finger he began to scratch the phrase " _Big Knockers_ " onto the door's rugged and chipped surface, chalking a rather phallic looking arrow between the words and the image. **"You forget yourself, meat-eater. Such a child..."**

 **"So what are they?"** she pressed on. Surely she understood the fundamental rule of the artiste? Never bother them while they're creating!

Still, it was a good question. He hadn't really thought about it, like a proper artist of course. He'd just held onto some charcoal, downed a couple of rounds and let his jittery hand do its own thing like he had done for so many lonely nights. He couldn't quite tell what he'd regurgitated onto the door. **"... They're a pair of iron shields, locked in formation**." he thought aloud. It must've been an abstract piece. The greatest art is raw from the mind, and makes little to no sense to the mortal being. Sort of like his pick up lines in retrospect. **"It's subtle political commentary, you wouldn't understand."**

The Bosmeri stared into the tankard she had brought out with her, swishing what was left about a bit. She wasn't quite at the level of drunkness where she was fluent in ancient Nordic yet, much to her chagrin. **"I haven't fallen over yet."**

 **"Then we'd better change that, haven't we?"** the magician snickered in a way that was meant to be alluring, yet sounded more like a jumpy teenage boy trying to talk dirty for the first time. His right hand - his dearest companion throughout the years - continued its craft unimpeded, barely managing to weave a white scrawl that resembled the phrase " _Romanes eunt domus_ ". Wonders didn't have time to consider what in Oblivion that phrase actually meant, 'fore his chalk crumbled into a fine white powder. **"Got anymore chalk?"**

Her flagon hung loose from her fingers as she folded her arms all authoritative-like. **"You chewed the last one. You thought it was dried sherbet."**

 _Convinced one bloke that it was moon sugar._

 _Made a smooth hundred septims._

Wonders flicked his tongue against his back teeth, realising just what that strange taste in his gob was. He lapped at it curiously, having trouble recollecting the flavour. He must've liked it, because he _did_ remember going back for seconds. **"... Well I was half right."** he noted. It was disappointing, but the taste had managed to completely throw his mind off topic. He'd had an incredibly original and witty idea to label the doorknob with, but now he couldn't put his finger on it. Shaking his head in failure, he gestured to the wood elf. **"Come on."**

The pair waltzed back into the _Bannered Mare_ with varying levels of enthusiasm in their step. Rest assured, the silliness of their walks would put even the Dragonborn and his strange heroic gait to shame.

They were at that part of being drunk now where they still had perfectly normal bodily functions and control of their extremities, yet in spite of this their minds were off doing whatever they felt like doing. It was like handing the reins of the horse to a five year-old: the horse is fine with just prancing around, eating grass and shagging things. It's the _five year-old_ who's going to be charging into people's houses and wrecking up the place. You'd be forgiven to have mistaken them as just being a pair of mildly retarded people.

Surprisingly the tavern was mostly empty now, as the sun began to set and the locals lurked back to their tenements. It must've been a working weekday. Wonders wouldn't have known, having not worked an honest day in his entire life. Wolfie and his mercenary friend were still sat in their seats. The Argonian had assumed that their mighty biceps had wedged them between their chairs and their table. His pity extended to them from its already substantial length.

Moon walking the last few metres in perfect unison the pair made for their seats, Faelindra almost missing hers entirely. Tucking theirselves in and dragging their chairs across the floor to make a sound akin to a sexually euphoric pig having an emotional revelation, they settled down. Wonders flagged down the bartender with a restrained display of flailing his arms about, causing the Nordic bint to scowl.

After a deliberately long pause, she came over to her two patrons with more ale in tow. She placed a hand on her hip, her nostrils flaring. **"You're meant to come to the counter like everyone else."** she grumbled. Wonders hadn't seen her face up close before, and to be honest he was glad that he hadn't. She looked much better when she was bent over. The magician must've started drooling a little bit, because she recoiled with disgust. **"Who do you think you are?"**

 **"Yes."** Wonders answered bluntly, wiping his slobber-stained sleeve across his gob. When she raised an eyebrow in confusion, he fumed. **"Won't do it again."** the Argonian sulked, before gesturing at his flagon with enough aggression to knock a Falmer out stone cold. **"More mead please, thank you."**

If she had it her way she'd probably pick up their table, tip its contents over their laps before literally throwing it at them. However she couldn't have it her way, and tables were pretty freakin' expensive. Not to mention that the slimy lizard had a housecarl in his company. Trying to ignore the worrying implications that flooded her aged mind, she begrudgingly filled up their tankards for what must've been the eighth time that day. Returning to the bar, she exchanged a troubling look with the pair of mercenaries by the door.

Like a child when dessert was dished up, Wonders span his flagon around on the table like a spinning top. He was a mature man, oozing with self-discipline and control. He was going to show that restraint by not glugging it all down this instant. **"So then, what about you?"** he asked Faelindra, **"How was your first?"**

 **"Bitter."** she answered as she sipped. 'twas nice and dry; something she never quite understood with drinks. Her dazed mind probably thought it was a pretty funny and original joke to purposefully misconstrue what her drinking partner had said, instead thinking about the first ale she'd had that morning. **"I'd prefer some Honningbrew. You know, the stuff with the berries in it?"**

Wonders' lips formed a tight O that would've probably been quite flirtatious in a different atmosphere, providing you were into that sort of thing. **"Hey, woah woah."** he warned frantically. The Argonian cupped his mouth with his fingers to try and shroud his voice, yet spoke just as loudly as usual with his incredibly distinct accent in an almost empty building. In full view of everyone in it. **"I'd be careful uttering such treason in these parts."**

 **"Don't worry, I know the slogan."** the wood elf reassured, raising her hands as if the city guard had just broken in with an arrest warrant and an array of sharp things. The _Bannered Mare_ was known throughout Whiterun for its aggressive advertising campaign as of late, what with competition from the _Drunken Huntsman_ causing a notable tug-of-war across the city. She'd seen posters about it illegally splattered everywhere, from the keep's walls to the Jarl's throne when his back was turned, to the Jarl's _actual_ back. It was reassuring to know that around half of the taxpayer's money going towards keeping Whiterun's defences running was spent on rounding up bloody posters. She echoed one of the more popular flyers to the letter: **"'** _ **Nine out of ten of Mare Mead drinkers recommend it to their friends. The last one is**_ **on my list** _ **!**_ **'"**

He wasn't amused, not that you could tell. An Argonian smiling looked the same as an Argonian who'd just stumped his toe. **"Just remember that if push comes to shove, I'll be out of that window faster than a brick with a ransom note tied to it."** he reminded, leaning back in his chair with a low squeak. He would've hit the " _mafia don_ " look bang on the head, if only he wasn't a scrawny little squirt.

Faelindra was happy to see that he didn't change much when he was drunk. She was honestly worried for a moment that he might suddenly grow a backbone, or a conscience, or in some warped reality where gravity was gravy _both_. **"Glad to see that you have my wing, wingman."**

 **"Only protecting what I care about."** he leant forward, swiping up his drink and at last taking a measured sip. This measured sip gradually evolved into a rather loud, awkward slurp, before he pulled back and added: **"... Me. I care about me."**

The Bosmeri housecarl smiled faintly, yet remained quiet as he returned to giving his drink the equivalent of sloppy oral sex. She hadn't forgotten his question - " _How was your first?_ " - she was just a bit reluctant to share the information. It was funny really, but now it was her turn she was suddenly worried about being judged. It wasn't the sort of story she tended to share with other people. It was like a mother who explained the agony of childbirth in excruciating detail whilst eating mashed raspberry pie. Just not the most pleasant topic of conversation in most scenarios.

But still, she'd agreed to this nothing short of a pinkie swear. Wonders had grown metaphorical hairs on his otherwise bare chest by sharing his own story, even if it was faker than a boy's first pube. She might as well have grown some balls and made her contribution.

Lady balls.

Because she was a lady.

... Yeah.

 **"So."** the Bosmer began, her body suddenly growing tense. She flexed her shoulders in suppressed ecstasy, sating that need in a matter of moments. **"You want to know how I lost it?"**

 **"Not in particular."** Wonders replied dryly, leaning to the side and fumbling for something in his pocket. His expression had less interest than a loan from the Markath Treasury, which was saying a lot. His eyelids fluttered. **"You're the one who started it."**

Anti-climatic or not, it certainly caught the ranger off guard. She made a sound that resembled the word " **Oh..."** , before instantly regaining her composure. She'd gone through the sheer dullness that was listening to the Argonian's story. It only seemed right that he suffered just as much as her. **"... Well, I'm gonna tell you!"**

 **"Go on then!"** Wonders shouted with sudden alarm, shaking his head in disgust. **"Get off my back, I don't owe you nothing! Jeez, women..."**

Of course all that this did was cause a long pause of silence. Honestly, would you expect anything less from a bloke who collected erotic literature for a living and an elf who was so short of stature that being in a crowded room probably put her on a sex offender's list for headbutting people's groins?

There was a little bit more quiet.

 _What was this, a romance novel?_

Wonders considered why she was taking such a long while to talk, having been so adamant to spew out her tales mere moments ago. Maybe she was digging through all the memories of the people she'd boned, and then _deboned_ for supper. Surely she'd lost count at some point?

In case you couldn't tell, the Argonian was still a tad bit paranoid at the probability that she might possibly be a cannibalistic nymphomaniac that lulled you into a false sense of security through subtle seduction before going for the kill, which while to an extent was pretty damn hot was also a little worrying in his vulnerable, tipsy state.

 **"Just to clarify here."** Wonders put his hands together like a lawyer on the losing case, stealthily praying to the gods that an insanity plea would cut it or that the judge would suddenly catch fire. **"How many men have you actually shagged?"**

 **"Including Stradlater?"** Faelindra asked, getting a nod from her counterpart in response. She made a display of counting her fingers and muttering some equations to herself, carrying twos, squaring twenty fives, and legitimately trying to understand what quadratics actually were, before coming to a conclusion. **"... None."** she said, forcing the most pleasant chuckle she could muster. It eased the air a bit for sure, albeit that alone wouldn't be enough to drop the Argonian's guard. **"How about you?"**

Wonders lowered his mug. Then his actual mug came down too. **"Wuh?"**

 **"How many men have you shagged?"**

The mage blinked a couple of times, only needing some curly eyelashes and blush to resemble a courtesan. His robes already made a suitable dress, not to mention his hips that didn't lie. **"Are you insinuating what I think you're insinuating?"**

 **"I'm just saying,"** Faelindra too took the lawyer stance, feeling all manly and domineering. **"Save for today I've never seen you without him."**

 **"I'm not** _ **gay**_ **!"** Wonders was quick to exclaim. Suspiciously quick, might she add.

 **"That's what most gay people say, you know."** the Bosmer smirked to herself, taking pleasure from the Argonian's irritation. Speaking about Stradlater had put his face in her mind's eye as she drank, making itself known even through the haze. It was weird how handsome he looked when you were mildly drunk, but then that could be said for so many others. **"... Still. He's pretty cute, isn't he?"** she thought aloud, staring out to the image that sat before her. She could remember seeing him this close long ago, that dorky little smile of his setting her heart aflutter. **"Cute... With how naive he can be?"** she exhaled, lowering her flagon and tightening her grip. **"So hot..."**

Wonders was quick to interject. **"Before or after the burns to the face?"**

That just caused her to grimace at the image before her, the lovely, handsome face of the Redguard twisting and contorting from that which she had once known to the charred mess that it was today. He looked so different, so _pained_ ; as if every waking moment was nothing but perpetual _agony_. She had no idea what had happened to him while he was gone, but whatever it was it had _mutilated_ him. Damaged him beyond repair. You could barely even tell it was him.

 **"You'll be happy to know that I haven't banged more people than an Orcish War Chief."** she scoffed, trying to shove that image away under the weight of sarcasm. Faelindra let her tankard go, crossing her arms in concentration.

She was ready.

Somebody else had to hear her out. Somebody else had understand her story and give their own input. Because she certainly had trouble understanding herself most the time. **"I'll have you know that** _ **Stradlater**_ **was my first."** she revealed, biting at her tongue. **"... And my last, in fact."**

 _It was a wave of memory._

 _Now it was a flood._

 _And she wasn't the best at swimming, was she?_

The magician took a moment to look her up and down, only needing to examine her teeth and shout " _Take her!_ " in a Dunmer's dialect to resemble your average child slaver. After his sudden examination was apparently complete, he nodded to himself with newfound clarity. **"... You know, that explains a lot more things than it should."**

 _Except for the nymphomania._

 _That just made it more confusing._

Dismissing his comments was about as easy as it always was. She echoed his words from before, **"My story, shhh."** she put a finger to her lips, preaching to what little honour the Argonian abided to. There were two codes that the lizard obeyed, and they were the bagsy rule and finger-on-lip rule. He bowed his head in subordination, earning well-placed praise from the wood elf. It took her a strange amount of effort to avoid patting his head and giving him a bone. **"Good boy."**

Faelindra took a deep breath of air, filling her lungs with as much stale ale and sweat she could, before beginning her tale. **"Three, maybe four years ago, I was a hunter."** she started off, staring at a stain on the ceiling. **"Nothing luxurious. Small game around Riften, the occasional grizzly if I was feeling adventurous."** she said, **"I'd moved to Skyrim from Valenwood after the Thalmor had their way with it. Not that it was the deciding factor. I'd been wanting to escape for years. Not my kind of town."**

As the wall of text dropped on by, Wonders focused on tending to the filth that always seemed to build up under his claws. Her story was far too slow for his liking. What was it, a bed time lullaby? Where was the action? The explosions? The two-dimensional romance sub-plot between two characters who shared absolutely nothing in common beyond strapping good looks?

Of course the Bosmeri didn't care about his disinterest. She was speaking _at_ him, not _to_ him. If anything reciting her story aloud could help her consider it more deeply. **"I loved bears."** she recalled. **"Big beasts, always a challenge to take down. And they sold for the most too. Give a man a bear pelt, he'll have enough money for a week. Teach him to hunt and skin, he'll be set for life."**

He'd stopped listening after " _I love bears_ ", and couldn't you forgive him for that? It was practically a _confession_. He should've hired a scribe to start writing a transcript of this conversation and used it to blackmail her. It almost makes sense that she'd have a thing for bears in particular, judging from the behemoth of a man she'd supposedly had her way with.

 **"One night, after a generally piss-poor hunt, I came back to the** _ **Bee and Barb**_ **for a pick-me-up."** Faelindra continued. She didn't have an actual permanent residence during her hunter days. Like the adventurer she sat with at the moment, she stuck to taverns and inns **. "You'd like it there, ran by an Argonian bloke."**

Perking up at the word " _Argonian_ ", it was too late for Wonders to realise that he'd been had. Try as he might, pulling at the reins was simply not enough to avoid going over the edge. " _Drat_ ," he thought to himself, metaphorically shaking a metaphorical fist at his rival. " _she got me again!_ "

With every word she was getting closer to it. They should've been such pleasant memories, yet for some fangled reason she'd dipped and lathered them in so much regret that her feelings were conflicted about them. **"... No one really spoke to me in Riften."** she noted, " **Must've been something to do with my blood, my job, or my gender or something. The Nords just didn't really take a liking to me."** Faelindra shrugged her shoulders, grinning to herself. **"Which is fine I mean. The feeling was mutual."**

It should come as no surprise that the merciful Silent-He-Wonders did find himself pitying the Mer at times. In a condescending, superior manner of course. The poor fools had the uncanny habit of getting kidnapped by weirdos and used as sacrifices in black magic rituals. Perhaps the traditional blonde-hair blue-eyes virgin valley girl option had declined in popularity within the sacrificial community?

 _The essence of Mer was a commodity._

 _He wished people placed that much value on his vital liquids_

Believe it or not he'd actually known a wood elf in Winterhold. Skittish little rascal, had an unsettling habit of leaving what he could only hope was foul-smelling chocolate in people's shoes at night. The girl was on an enchanting course at the college, and found some nice old lady in town who was apparently a master at the craft. She'd asked her if she could teach her how to enchant, to which the old biddy replied that she'd " _enchant things with her_ ".

Turns out the dastardly old crone had a speech impediment and a poor grasp of language, and meant that she'd enchant things _with_ her - _using_ her - if you get the phrase. Of course the stupid little Bosmer with all her naivety agreed and followed her back to her conveniently out of sight cottage on the outskirts of the hold. Wonders - and the entirety of the college - never saw her again.

 _How pointless tragic._

 _How poignantly hilarious._

The man himself had been sat at the bar in Riften. What was it about him that made every single action he did sexy? The way he sat, the way he spoke, even the way he drank. **"Stradlater was staying there that night."** Faelindra clarified. **"No idea why he was there. Maybe looking for mercenary work, or just having a goosy around the local caverns."** she shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't even use the drunk excuse; she hadn't been drinking at that point. **"I sat down at the counter next to him, got myself a drink... And he spoke to me."**

Wonders made a deliberate display of picking at his teeth, much to the housecarl's irritation. Realising that she was expecting some sort of dramatic reaction from him, he plucked out a chunk of something, placed it on his tongue and swallowed it sloppily. **"... Should I be astonished?"**

 **"** _ **I**_ **was!"** Faelindra pointed out with sudden enthusiasm, her voice being about as consistent as a pubescent choir boy having an emotional breakdown. **"All this time people were avoiding me, and then all of a sudden this random bell-end starts chatting!"** she snickered at the ridiculousness of it all. For some reason beyond her she couldn't help but let the Redguard's contagious grin from that day spread across her lips; like it had for hours on end as they sat together that fateful night. **"No idea why I caught his eye, but we decided to sit together. Have a few rounds, share a few laughs, take turns buying the drinks, you know the drill."**

He didn't know the drill. The Argonian coughed loudly, turning his chair to the side ever so slightly. This was beginning to sound suspiciously similar to their current predicament. He could only hope that it didn't end the same way.

Now she was getting to the _really_ juicy parts. These were the sort of bits that would make a drunken sailor blush. If it was written in a story book, people would be dealing it in alley ways wearing long leather coats. The simple fact was that there was no turning back now. She'd thrown herself kicking and flailing into the pool in a desperate attempt to force out her reluctance. Part of her honestly questioned why she didn't just make up some goof ball story like Wonders had in favour of being totally honest about a life-changing moment in her history.

 _That was life changing?_

 _Just how lacklustre could her life be?_

Faelindra licked her lips in concentration, which was a sign that Argonian interpreted in his own way. **"After a while we were a little...** _ **Tipsy**_ **."** she sighed. She could remember how he'd put his arm over her shoulder, so firm yet so gentle. Every now and then his large and clumsy fingers would comb through her hair, twirling it about into goofy looking curls and letting it spring back into shape. It'd been the first time a man had been so intimate with her. Pretty pathetic, wasn't it? The Bosmer exhaled in amusement, recollecting the familiar sluggishness in her limbs. **"Ever seen a drunken Redguard and a drunken Bosmer trying to lean on eachother's shoulders? It does horrors to your back, let me tell you."**

 **"Doesn't matter."** Wonders shrugged his shoulder, slipping his hand into his sleeve and flapping the robe about as if he'd lost the limb. No reaction. **"You're going to be flat on your back soon enough I take it."**

She blushed. She actually _blushed_. Faelindra the Housecarl, hunter and warrior, officer in the city guard of Whiterun and at times counsel to Jarl Balgruuf himself was _blushing_. She should've cocked her leg and worn a frilly little skirt, maybe done a little skip across the tavern and gone home before daddy got cross with how late she was out. Put lightly, she was a tad bit disappointed in herself. **"H-He'd only just arrived that evening. Hard road, paid for most of the drinks."** she tried to regain her composure, although the whole intoxication thing was making it difficult. They'd slowly but surely shuffled off from the bar, laughing all the way. She couldn't remember if they'd said anything particularly funny, 'though she could remember just how much she was enjoying herself. **"So being the gentleman... Gentlewoman... Nice person I am, I offered him a room."**

The magician was rightly miffed. This didn't sound anything like the build-up from the _Lusty Argonian Maid_. Where was the foreplay? The terrific puns? Not even a brief make-out session with oodles of Tommy Tongue? **"... Just to make sure we're on the same page here."** he was back into lawyer mode, critical of her unrealistic portrayal of romance. **"You met a Redguard out of nowhere, had a few pints with him, and you were now buying him a room? What, were you alching all the furniture or something?"**

 **"No, I** _ **offered**_ **him a room."** Faelindra insisted, trying to convey what she meant without explicitly spelling it out for him. Wonders' expression remained flat; no doubt he wasn't the best at spelling. **"I** _ **let him in**_ **."** she tried, yet he still sat with his gob unhinged. Her eyes span like a dog trying to look up. **"We shared a bed!"**

Wonders let off a long " _ooooooo_ ", gradually deflating at the chest. Eventually he regained his composure, snapping back into his confident position. **"Makes sense. You're small enough for it."**

 _Terrific._

 _Five stars._

 **"We..."** Faelindra got off to a weak start, and decided to rephrase it. **"... Well, I..."** she froze again, shaking her head in spite. This was the award winning moment, and she was about as eager to spill it as a sloth with Crohn's Disease. There was nothing else to it. She'd have to do the traditional " _rush through and hope he misses it_ " approach perfected by dishonest school children millennia ago. **"... To put a long story short, we went upstairs with one extra large bottle of mead, both got naked, then tested the springs."** she spat out hastily, slurring a few of the words together. It'd been such an awkward and embarrassing moment for the both of them. All alone, stripped to the bone, with nothing but one-another for warmth and companionship. Believe it or not she'd actually been a bit scared, even through the booze. **"He had no idea what he was doing... I certainly didn't."** she sighed hotly, recalling those moments with life-like quality. She glanced at Wonders quizzically, faintly nodding beneath the table over his lap. " **Never knew you could** _ **miss**_ **. Not like there's much margin for error."**

The Argonian nodded in apparent understanding, no doubt experienced in the functions of sexual congress. **"A bloke's third leg is an unruly beast. You tend to let it do its own thing."** he diagnosed confidently, tugging at his non-existent chin hairs. All of that was expected, but what caught the Bosmer off guard was when he suddenly leant forward in his chair and asked a question. **"... What was he like?"**

Raising an eyebrow wasn't enough to convey her feelings. She had to open her mouth a tad too. **"He was damn good at cuddling, I'll give him that."** she informed, giving him at least some praise. It was true that it was nowhere near as long as she'd expected. In fact she'd had longer breakfasts on the field, which usually consisted of a single carrot. Regardless, there was a lot more to that night than just clumsy sex and alcohol. **"We sort of just held eachother... Didn't even need any blankets."**

Wonders leant even further forward, popping her admittedly small personal bubble in at least three places. **"Did it look good?"**

 **"Did what look good?"** the Bosmer replied. Stradlater certainly looked good. He was _just_ muscular enough to look handsome without creeping into steroid territory. Thankfully he wasn't so big that his shoulders were somehow above his head like some Nords and Orcs.

 **"You know."** he tried his best to subtly nod at his groin, but it looked more like he was having a mild epileptic spasm. The Argonian sought compromising material on the Redguard for the next time they got into an argument. No doubt he'd be able to shift the tables on the snarky git. He tried to explain what he meant, **"His** _ **leg**_ **."**

To say that she was mildly concerned with his curiosity would be an understatement. **"... Do you want me to draw a diagram?"**

He must've finally realised just how peculiar his questions were, because he chose that moment to make a tactical retreat. The mage combed his hand through his mane. **"No, no. I'm fine."**

Faelindra sighed once again, sounding like a collective of fangirls in the presence of a hunk. She could remember his expression when they'd gotten started, and she'd stripped herself down to the nuddy. She wasn't the sort who put particular effort into her looks, but she had to admit that his amazement filled her with a high dose of self-confidence. She could only imagine that her own face looked just as childish as he explored every one of her - admittedly limited - curves. He'd certainly had an innocuous fascination with holding the elf's waist. **"He certainly looked surprised. Like his favourite character in a book turned out to be evil."**

 **"God, his face looks like a slapped arse when he's caught off guard."** Wonders shuddered, **"I pity your libido."**

The housecarl merely shrugged, **"Still."** she thought aloud, finding Wonders' eyes for the briefest of moments. Struggling to focus, they fell back to her flagon in due time. **"... Could've been worse I guess. I don't know, it didn't feel...** _ **Bad**_ **."** she laughed in discomfort, scratching at a nagging itch on the back of her neck. Maybe it hadn't been perfect, but that didn't mean it was life ending. To be honest to Wonders _and_ herself, it was _lovely_. Albeit shorter than a bandit's life expectancy. The Bosmer tugged at her fingers awkwardly, **"I mean... W-Well...** _ **I**_ **liked it. A bit. Kind of."**

Wonders began to lean against the table for support. Either he was incredibly engaged by her self-dialogue, or was having trouble focusing and beginning to drift off to sleep.

That was why she'd enjoyed that night. After years upon years of massacring wild life for a living, lurking around Riften with no one to express herself to, she'd found someone. However brief it was, it let her be someone else for a change. Her lips tightened. **"For once I didn't feel like some out of place tough-gal hunter, I felt like...** **"** she looked up, trying to force her way through the corniness. If she or anyone else in a five mile radius had any corn allergies, they would've been breaking out in hives. **"... Well, a woman. An ordinary woman."**

 **"Correct me if I'm wrong."** Wonders cut in with laser focus, crossing his legs. **"But I thought you hated him for that night. Hist's sake, all you seem to do is make fun of him about it."**

Faelindra swallowed irritably, having hoped that he wouldn't put two and two together. She'd wanted to spend the night looking at the brightside of that day with the exotic wanderer, but she couldn't fool herself much longer. It didn't change the fact that she felt ire for him. **"... You want to know why I** _ **hate**_ **him, Argonian?"**

 _"Hate"._

 _Weren't many better words for it._

He returned to drinking all cool like. Wonders was proud of himself for his awesome display of disinterest. It made him feel like the rival in an adventure tie-in who's off the rails and doesn't play by the rules. **"... I've got a feeling that you're going to tell me whether I like it or not."**

 **"That night. That sweet, lovely, romantic night."** Faelindra unwound, her lip furling. Why was it so much easier to let out the spite? Why couldn't it be easier to speak about the _good_ bits? They'd laid together for hours into the night, flesh on flesh as they snuggled under the dancing candles of her room. It was romantic. It was _their_ moment. **"... It was meant to be** _ **my**_ **happy ending."**

The sad truth is, she wanted to move on from a warrior's life. Some might've called her oppressive or submissive or some other term for what she sought, but in honesty she wanted to have a _husband_. She wanted to have _children_. She wanted to settle down with someone in a peaceful life, financially secure and away from the worries of the world. She wanted to grow old with someone who understood her, seeing off her sons and daughters as they went off to make their own families. She wanted _harmony_.

Was there anything wrong with that?

Her upper lip continued to twitch with fury, her rows of teeth struggling to avoid biting her tongue. **"But** _ **no**_ **. The bastard runs off to stab things with a scimitar and be a mercenary, without any ties to any place."** she snarled, letting lose her bile. When she'd woken up the next morning Stradlater had disappeared without a trace. She spent hours darting across Riften doing her best to try and track down where he'd scarpered off to, but to no avail. The next time she saw him was at Dragonsreach, four years on.

 _And oh how hatred stews over so many winters alone._

Faelindra glared at Wonders with venom on her tongue, malice replacing coyness within a matter of moments. **"All those smiles, all that damn optimism... Do you know how that feels? To have your dreams dashed just when they're about to come true?"**

 _All she ever seemed to do was drift further._

 _Further and further from what she wanted to be._

 _Normal._

Wonders had been glugging the entire time, dropping his flagon and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. His nostrils glistened with alcohol as he returned her glare with his own. Rest assured, having the rough reptilian visage of a dragon tended to give your eyes a little more oomph. **"More than you know."** he muttered darkly, licking at his snout. The awkward silence that ensued was a bit too serious for his liking, which he tended to in an instant. **"... You _slash_ with scimitars, just saying."**

The housecarl fidgeted in her seat, taken aback by Wonders' sudden change in tone. Maybe she was ranting about her own problems too much. The fact that the Argonian had made up his story in the first place had all sorts of implications after all. Was his own history too woeful and desperate to even share in detail?

Perhaps it was wrong to feel slighted by what Stradlater had done that day. It was nothing more than a shameless drunken swing between a pair of strangers who were eager for a bedwarmer. But for some reason beyond her understanding she couldn't help but take offence. She felt _clingy_ , and by the Hunt's name she couldn't explain _why_.

She decided to break the ice. Figuratively, not literally. **"Hey, Wonders."** she spoke slightly, having spent a moment to wallow in her dreams. If there was one thing for certain, she'd _never_ wear a housewife's attire. Those dresses looked about as comfortable as coming out to your military dad. **"Ever thought about having children?"**

 **"Is that an offer?"** Wonders perked up, his tail swaying unsettling.

You could probably guess what she did with her eyebrows. **"If I wanted someone green I'd choose a corpse over you."** the Bosmer scoffed, **"Would probably smell nicer."**

Wonders raised his chin in understanding. He and the wood elf seemed to think alike when it came to shagging green things. **"The day I think about having children will be the day that Ulfric Stormcloak makes sense."** he snorted dismissively, batting his hand left and right like an Imperial maiden fanning herself on a hot day. **"I don't get this fascination with babies. All they do is eat, poop and grow up to hate your guts."**

 **"What makes you say that?"** Faelindra asked, tilting her head as if she wore one excessively heavy earring.

 **"I was a baby once. I've got firsthand experience."** he pointed out, to which she conceded the point. **"But I suppose I could understand why you'd want to have babies with the Redguard. It's the nose, isn't it? Guess that's a good trait to pass on to future children."**

 **"His** _ **nose**_ **?"** Faelindra blew air between her lips, hoping to put on a convincing cover. The nomad was practically built like a marble statue. He had _literally_ chiselled abs. **"That's flatter than the stew this place calls mead."**

 **"Oi,** _ **careful**_ **."** Wonders squeaked, springing to the defensive once more. Perhaps something had changed between the pair of them over the past few hours, because for some strange reason he was adamant in making sure she didn't get herself assassinated in some peculiar coup. **"Listen here, if you ask me..."**

A large belt adorned with an animal's head, as well as the person wearing it, suddenly made itself known. It stood by the side of the table in all its barbaric glory. **"Excuse me."**

 **"Hold on a minute toots, the grown-ups are talking."** the Argonian said without missing a beat, trying to regain his fire after such a rude interruption. It _sickened_ him how little consideration some people had for fellow patrons. **"As I was saying-"**

The bloke's arm suddenly wrapped onto his, daisy chaining them together in a way that would be quite endearing in any other circumstances. **"** _ **Ladies**_ **, if you'd ju-"** he roughly pulled the Argonian up, only to recoil in horror. **"Eugh! Just what are you?"**

The rat bastard thought he was a _woman_!

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time that this had happened. What, was it the way he walked? Did his posture just scream " _tits_ " to people? He snarled, rightfully enraged. **"Pissed off is what I am!"** he growled, staring the man in one of his many eyes. It was the mercenary, his armour covered in so many wolf heads that he was having trouble finding his actual face. **"So pissed, just** _ **kissing**_ **me would make your liver explode!"**

Faelindra took a moment to lean in and contribute. **"It doesn't work like that."**

Wolfie held Wonders aloft by the scruff of his robe, his toes dangling mere inches off the floorboards. The mage was irate to say the least; the collar on _robes_ never sprang back. **"The barmaid's been a bit antsy about you, causing a ruckus."** themercenary said, his colleague taking up the rear without spanking it and calling it names. **"You're ruining the night of all the other patrons."**

 **"All the other patrons?"** Wonders gasped comically, counting his fingers as he scanned the desolate tavern. Including him, Faelindra, the two mercenaries, and the unconscious bloke that was _still_ sleeping next to him, that was _four_ clients. _Four_. No more, no less. **"Well, what do you know? Better call me Mehrunes Dagon, 'cause I'm a bloody** _ **menace**_ **!"**

 **"She's also filed a report about the crude graffiti on the tavern's door."** he remained formal, no doubt lacking the intelligence to feel frustrated. He hoisted Wonders a tad bit higher, as if using him for weight lifting. **"We'd rather not have this get messy, but to put it cleanly we'd like you to both sod off."**

 _Crude?_

 _No appreciation of art in this establishment, is there?_

Wonders had been in a situation like this many times before, as hard as it may be to believe. Who would've thought that he'd been manhandled by the Nords that he constantly insulted with every waking moment? **"Yes, well about that. I happen to be a paying customer of this fine... Place... Mr...?"**

The merc side stepped, nodding at his compatriot. **"This is Hammer. They call me Wolf."**

 **"Wolf.** _ **Wolf**_ **!"** Wonders rolled his eyes. **"** _ **Gods**_ **that's original!"**

Raising a fist Wolf slapped Wonder's cheek in a threatening yet gentle way. If he was a masochist, he would've been having a ball. **"We'd rather not mess up the joint with an Argonian corpse."**

 **"You're right."** he exhaled, his tone defeated. The Nord's grip on his lapels loosened ever so slightly, ready to give him a chance. But of course, this was Silent-He-Wonders. **"A rotting body would** _ **really**_ **clash with the drapes."**

Wonders was punched in the face.

He was taken aback as he recoiled from the force. That wasn't right. Whenever he'd been snarky and sarcastic in the past it'd work. Droves of bouncers and fathers had bowed to his sarcasm and allowed him to claim his prize before. Why wasn't it working now? Surely the Nords hadn't evolved over night?

Wolfie fastened his grip, shaking him like a rag doll. **"You got a problem?"**

The Argonian tried again, ignoring the ticklish trickle of blood on his muzzle. **"The only problem I've got is with your grasp of basic grammar!"**

Rightfully so the smug Argonian received another slap to the chops, sending him reeling back to the accompaniment of a low hiss from Faelindra - the universal sound of " _That's gonna be sore in the morning_ ". It was going to take a lot of booze to iron out that bruise.

 **"You just made a mistake, son."** Wolfie brought him back around, wrapping his fist around the lizard's gob. **"A** _ **big**_ **mistake."**

 **"The only mistake, son, was your conception,** _ **son**_ **."** he echoed, licking at the warm liquid amassing above his gums. **"Were your parents brother and sister,** _ **son**_ **?!"**

Another knockout punch wham-bam against the dome. Wonders flopped against the table and knocked over his drink, slumping to the ground on his knees as his hands scrambled for a grip. Faelindra quickly made to help him up before he snarked again. She understood his plight. Sometimes you just couldn't resist sarcasm. **"Sorry, sorry, he was in the way of your fist. I apologise!"** she bowed her head to the merc, who backed off to whisper something to his pal. She couldn't believe that she was begging like this as a Housecarl, but at the moment she was a bit too tipsy to do much else. She glanced down at Wonders, who looked - agreeably - mildly annoyed. **"Where are you hurt?"**

 **"Well, my ego took a bit of a bollocking."** he listed the damage report, trying to sit up. He could feel his nostrils welling with goo, much to his chagrin. **"Pride could certainly use mouth to mouth. If you step on any of my teeth, apologies."**

There was only one way to approach a situation like this, and she knew the Argonian wouldn't be pleased. She leant close, doing her best to ignore his ripe smell. **"Wonders, I need you to listen to me. You've got to cup, fondle, and caress his arse."** she suggested. Taking a moment to glance at the merc's rear, she made sure that he was adequately proportioned. Wolfie was just standing there with his pal, looking a tad bit insulted by how they were suddenly being ignored. **"... Both cheeks would be preferable if you've got the arm span. By the Wild Hunt, give it some tongue if you can. If your breath doesn't smell like a Draugr's armpit by the end of this you're doing it wrong."**

Wonders shuddered at the implications. _Him_ , being _polite_ to Nords? That was right down there with his " _pretend to be a male escort to sneak into a party_ " tactic. **"C-Couldn't you just arrest them?"**

 **"That'd involve getting up."** she hauled him onto his feet like a sack of yeast, slapping him on his bottom to get him moving like an environmentalist letting a domesticated elk free into the wild only for it to get mauled by a sabre tooth within the first twenty seconds. **"Now chop chop."**

He stumbled forward awkwardly, holding onto his battered nose as he went. Wolfie folded his arms expectantly, his hips slanted like a working girl. **"Well then?"**

 **"I, uhhh... I must apologise, Wolf and Hammer. Hammer** _ **and**_ **Wolf."** he began, trying to casually lean against a table to stay up straight. This dizziness wasn't pleasant drunken dizziness, it was " _I'm in horrible pain_ " dizziness. **"It appears I've dirtied your hands with my own innards, and that stuff tends to stain."**

 **"Don't apologise to us, apologise to the barmaid."** Wolfie reminded, shifting his hands to his waist indecisively. He just needed to take off his top, get a tan and start doing squats to resemble your average motivational speaker for overweight people. **"Then leave. She wants you out."**

Wonders acted as he felt, and curtsied like a princess with his robes. Wobbling in that pose for a bit, he then proceeded to shuffle across the tavern over a painfully long time towards the counter where the Barmaid stood judgingly. After a fascinating voyage of pain and despair that left him emotionally drained and satisfied, he threw himself forward and caught the bar. Agonizingly he pulled himself up, leaning on one hand as if he was picking up a babe. The barmaid was grotesque as ever. He'd _still_ rather talk to her arse. It certainly looked nicer. **"** _ **Mrs**_ **Barmaid."**

She had a face that'd seen some things. No doubt owning a tavern forced you to watch all sorts of puking contests and knife throwing accidents. She could probably give veterans PTSD with one look. She said **"Hulda."**

The magician looked behind himself, wondering if yet another character had entered the cast. **"... Who's he?"**

 **"Me."** she sighed, folding her arms across her lacklustre bosom. He was more of a twin-moon kind of bloke. **"I'm Hulda."**

 **"... You're a man?"** Wonders inquired, promptly getting yet another slap across his chops. It strangely felt a bit more erotic getting it from a girl; he had to resist letting out a worryingly ecstatic moan. **"I-I mean yes, sorry ma'am."**

 **"Sorry for...?"**

By the Hist, he'd need a _list_ for that. The mercenaries stood by his left and right flank in all their bulk, something strange and vaguely shaft-like throbbing and prodding at his lower back. Now there were two things that it could possibly be, and both of them had mildly unsettling implications. **"... Sorry for forcing you to make the calculated choice of spending your hard earned coin on a pair of mercenaries to sort me out."**

 **"What?"** Hulda looked between the mercs with sudden confusion, something he said clearly having an impact. If it was emotional, he deserved a medal for his acting skill. **"I've spent no coin. These gentleman acted on their own initiative."**

The mercenary called Hammer blinked, speaking with a thick Imperial City accent that just screamed " _horse-worrier_ ". **"Wolfie, you said there was money in this."**

 **"No, I said there was** _ **potential**_ **for money."** Wolf turned to face him, elbowing his gut dismissively. **"Learn to tell the difference."**

 **"You** _ **always**_ **say that."** Hammer snarled, standing his ground. **"Have you been lying to me?"**

 **"Well, this may surprise you Ham."** he began, completely turning his back on Wonders. Nothing prodded against his rear anymore, not that it answered the grand old mystery. **"But you're about as gullible as an undecided voter."** he folded his arm, smirking at his colleague's expense. **"This is just like that time when your sister had a runny nose and you thought a mage had given it legs."**

There was a bit of shoving between them, as Hammer got aggressive. **"You take that back."**

 **"Okay, I will."** Wolf said, causing Ham to let his guard down. Wolfie promptly did what any sane man would do and pushed back, sending him stumbling for a foothold. **"** _ **See? That's**_ **how gullible you are city boy!"**

He closed the gap, his fists clenched **. "You wanna take this outside, bloke?"**

 **"Why, you want a view?"** Wolfie spat, now nose-to-nose with his fellow soldier. Wonders half expected this to be their way of flirting, and for them to suddenly start making out with eachother and have rough sex right there on the tavern floor. **"Right here, right now."**

Hammer punched his chest, building up a berserker's frenzy. **"I'm gonna rip off your head and** _ **beat**_ **you to death with it, Nord!"**

Wolfie screamed with frustration, throwing himself forward in a bestial lunge. **"That's makes no bloody sense!"**

Hulda and Wonders exchanged rather bewildered looks over the counter as the pair suddenly began to duke it out, using all sorts of furniture and objects to clobber one another, from bottles to chairs to corkscrews. Nodding at the barmaid victoriously, he pushed away from the counter and skirted around the wrestling pair.

Hulda clambered over her counter and tried to break up the battle. **"Stop it!"** she ordered, her voice a mere cricket's fart amidst the chaos. **"You're wrecking my tavern!"** she warned, trying to corral them away from her furnishings. **"... You're also killing eachother!"**

Wonders took up his seat opposite of the speechless Bosmer, reaching for his drink and tossing up an olive. Faelindra watched the ensuing brawl as it raged on; entertainment while you drink at its finest. The pair of mercenaries careened out of the door in a mutual headlock, with Hulda hot on their heels in pursuit like a paparazzi tailing the celeb of the month.

The Argonian opened his mouth as the olive arced in the air, ready to catch it. **"Just so you know."** the olive hit his chin and bounced off to the floor, fleeing from his mighty presence before he could get the drop on it. He flexed his fingers awkwardly. **"... That was my plan all along."**

 **"Getting lucky."** the housecarl nodded, impressed by his display. **"That's a plan if I've ever heard one.**

With the tavern all to themselves, the pair clinked their drinks together in a toast. There was still plenty of hours left in the day as the sun at last began to set. There was a chorus of thudding sounds as Hammer smashed Wolfie's head against the door repeatedly, followed by a thickly-accented screech.

 **"My favourite ear!"**

X

 _(A/N): Well then, that was a tad bit anti-climatic :O_

 _The big issue here is that this entire fic was originally conceived as a oneshot. Problem was that no matter how I handled it, it simply wouldn't work that way. As a result I'm kind of doing this weird thing with filler and stuff... Bah_

 _With Faelindra given about as much depth as a kiddy paddling pool, the duo are left on intermission to drink for a few more hours! However, with just how pissed they're likely to be soon... What sort of chaos awaits? I guess you'll have to wait!_

 _... Or click the next chapter button if it's out when you're reading this... Taa taa!_


	3. All in Good Spirits

**(A/N):** About damn time that we got to the end!

After spilling her heart about the man she loves, Faelindra watched with mild amusement as Silent-He-Wonders got himself dragged into a brawl with a pair of apes!

However, after getting the duo into a scuffle - which was _all_ part of his plan - the Argonian and the Bosmer find themselves all alone in the _Bannered Mare_... And spend another few hours drinking!

This is one of my more substandard A/Ns, isn't it... Come on, let's get to the finale!

 **WARNING:** Spelling errors, mildly inappropriate language, surprisingly detailed sexual discussions from someone who's never even attempted having a relationship, bad jokes, me trying to write drunken banter, me trying to detail the mental processes of a woman despite having a knob, a not-too-subtle rip off of a certain novel, a moral that goes all over the place, and possibly the most disjointed story I've ever written!

 **Chapter Three: All in Good Spirits**

 **"Guess what I just licked!**

Faelindra let loose the sort of sigh you'd dread to hear when you pulled your pants down, crossing her legs all head-mistress like. **"I feel like half our conversations start this way."**

The Argonian sat with a ladle stuck between his teeth for a moment, fuming at the implications of her words. He'd provided her with enough conversation to occupy an old lady in a waiting room. Just what did she want from him? **"Where'd you get that idea?"** he pressed, pulling out a mental abacus with all its colourful bits missing. **"Half... That's like, twenty percent of our conversations."**

She feigned yet another yawn in disinterest, making sure to put a peculiar emphasis near the end for the sake of variety. The housecarl fumbled through a thick-rimmed bowl for a bit, hunting for a sweet roll to wrap her sweet fingers around. After a few minutes of this and an extra minute of licking the sugar off her fingertips, she came to the conclusion that they were out of rolls. Lame balls. **"... _Cock_ , we're out again."**

Wonders waved a dismissive hand, only needing to tut to look like the most popular girl in town. **"I'm on it, I'm on it."** he droned, making to rise to his feet. Or rather, all _three_ of his feet.

 _Oh no he did-nnnnnnnn't!_

 **"No you don't."** Faelindra instantly intercepted him, **"You stay right here."** she demanded, slapping the table with the flat of her hand. The empty bowl wibbled and wobbled with the sudden force, sounding like a cymbal on a tot's playset. Her head felt unusually heavy. She decided to rest it on the table for a bit, as you do. **"Remember what happened last time?"** she asked, her voice muffled by the wood.

Did he even remember what happened last time? Well, his reply was enough to put that question to rest. **"... There was a last time?"**

 **"You went to Belethor's naked."** Faelindra put it bluntly, the sight of a scrawny reptilian's hiney having slit the throat of her libido and tossed it down river in mere seconds. She pitied the Argonian's mother. The poor cow probably gouged her eyes out with a spoon after the first year.

 _Now_ he remembered. Strange that it was absent from his mind, since it only happened an hour ago. The pair of them had felt a strange sense of the munchies coming along, which was " _strange_ " since you tend to not suffer from munchies after downing a couple of hundred thousand pints of mead. Understanding the urgency of their predicament, Wonders had forgone his robes and lubed up in order to make himself more streamlined and speedy. **"Oi, I was wearing socks actually."** he reminded, folding his arms derisively. The insolence she and Belethor had had! He'd made a supreme sacrifice for the team, and what did he get? Another freakin' restraining order, and a couple of gallons of fresh vomit from the Breton's oversized gob. **"Frigid bastard."** he grumbled in distaste. He glanced at their pick-and-mix of rolls once again. He could've sworn that the shopkeep'd cheated them. **"Look, here's a thought..."**

 _And so he thought._

Faelindra, her head still laid low like the boy napping on a girl's nap under a well placed apple tree in a teenage rom-com, spun her eyes to stare at him. She'd hoped that he'd had a brief spasm and was now incapable of speech, but low and behold he continued to prod at his snout. **"... Well when it becomes a sentence, let me know."**

He raised a hand to subdue her, **"Hold on, getting there..."** he pressed on. To be honest, he had no idea what that thought of his had actually been. He, like many other great intellects, suffered from that constant irritation of having the perfect idea only to forget it within an instant. Like a lost slipper, it'd only come back to you three years on while you're searching for something completely different. Wonders suddenly snapped his fingers. Or rather he tried to snap them only for sugar dust to fly everywhere, up to and including Faelindra's eyes. **"This wall."** he gestured, **"Bet you I can climb it using** _ **only**_ **my lips."**

She spent so much time writhing in untold agony - the salt and sugar mixing to create quite a tasty round of tears - that she missed the opportunity to ask _why_ he had this idea. After finishing her little sob fest, Faelindra sat up to a half-slouch to tend to the eyelash now stuck in her left eye socket. **"You... A-Ah... Haven't** _ **got**_ **any lips."**

Wonders was having none of that. He lowered his head and glared upwards, trying to look like a menacing anti-hero. **"You underestimate my powers."**

The wood elf shook her head, tilting it to the side and patting her ear to try and dislodge the stray hair. She sounded like a maraca with a hole drilled through it. She was only half listening at the moment. **"... Don't try it."**

Taking up his flagon like the sword and shield of a young man marching to war, Wonders gloriously stumbled towards a bland bit of everyday wall. Well, bland would be impolite - it had a small yellow stain on its lower left side; a blemish that added to its garden-variety, girl-next-door appeal. Ever so carefully he shimmied closer and closer like your drunken auntie getting frisky on the dance floor, before beginning to give it what could best be summarised as a bit of a wet snog.

The mage put his lacklustre weight into it, pressing his groin against the wall's corner and swaying a tad. Either this was the most romantic case of spooning ever before seen on the face of Tamriel that went beyond the limitations of race or objectification, or he was stealthily trying to rub one off by dry humping a collection of brick and mortar.

 _The wall didn't fight it though_

 _"Just let it happen."_

Faelindra hadn't been this drunk for quite a while, but there was still much more work to do. She was hoping to achieve the level of drunkness where you were the happiest person alive, and could go around spitting peanuts and walk off fatal falls like they were mild inconveniences. Sadly, the Bosmer had only had enough to reach the depressing stage of constant self reflection where you repeatedly question why you go on living. She felt like she'd turned a knob and gone back in time to her existentialist teens.

Of course of all the things she'd lurk on, there was just the one. For the past few hours, providing she wasn't upchucking her innards at the sight of Wonder's scaly cheeks, her regrets over that night in particular dug at her mind as if there was gold underneath. In all honesty, could there have been any sort of ending for that night that wouldn't have left her as such an angsty wreck? **"... You know what?"** Faelindra suddenly thought aloud, not actually noticing it **. "I had so many opportunities to do it..."** she continued, still deaf in the ears. She must've been subconsciously suppressing her hearing, afraid to hear what sort of sin and vice Wonders was up to. **"... Yet not _once_ have I touched Stradlater's arse."**

The dumb Bosmer'd just been too _shy_. Call her reserved, but she felt that giving the Redguard's derriere a good pinching might've been a step too far. You know, because outright sex was first base to the fair virgin maiden. Rest assured, she gave his shoulders a damn good squeezing. He could've thrashed from side to side like a dog covered in mud, yet she would've still clung on tight like a stubborn bit of bread in a tramp's beard. Those things were so broad and muscular that you could probably use them as a makeshift deployable bench in an emergency.

Wonders ran his hand against the wall with a masseuse's elegance, treating it like the burly chest of a heroic hero. He only needed to utter the phrase " _come on, big boy_ " to perfect the scene. In between smooches, he spoke with heavy breaths. **"I touched the butt once."** he recalled unexpectedly, catching the mer off guard. **"'twas an experience with the greatness of legend."** he sighed endearingly.

Whilst skulking around a bandit camp near a cliff face, he'd given the bulky Stradlater a boost so he could fillet a few with arrows from his seldom used bow. Thankfully he didn't bring his armour that time, because it'd taken the Argonian a fair few shoves to get the big-arsed Redguard up there sans-plate. If you spoke to him while he was sober he'd say it was a disgusting occurrence that couldn't be cleansed with soap and holy exorcisms, but right here, right now, with the beautiful golden beverage that cleared your thoughts with ease, he realised the sheer art that was the warrior's masterfully sculpted bottom. **"... So I touched it once more."**

She smirked with mild jealousy. The pair had been adventuring for quite some time; who knows what sort of mischief they got up to in the wilderness, out of sight and out of mind? It sure does get lonely after a while, and the killing samey. **"Are you sure you're not into blokes?"**

There was a heavy sound as Wonders fell to the floor, both of his green maces bouncing against the floorboards and ricocheting under his robes. He'd dropped from a _metre_ up. Pain was to be expected, even with the sedative of mead. Tickling the wall's supposed chin hairs he took up position again, relentless in his pursuit. **"I feel like our relationship should have moved on from you constantly asking if I'm gay."**

 _What was wrong with finding a man's arse sexy?_

 _... N-No homo._

As Wonders employed the " _needy crab_ " technique of scuttling up the tavern wall, Faelindra came to realise just how high Wonders had somehow managed to get. She felt mildly worried; she'd certainly never be able to walk into an empty room again without the paranoia of someone clinging to the ceiling drilling into her skull **. "... Come down from there, you'll damage the rafters."** she warned, not entirely eager to dish out her hard earned coin. **"... And probably your neck too."**

" **I don't need a lecture. I'm a grown man. I know I'm an idiot."** he retorted, putting his hips into it. Did she truly doubt his strategic acumen? He'd survived all sorts of wraiths and daedra in his time exploring the wastes of Skyrim. The arcane arts were at his command to an extent that mere mortals could not even fathom. With a snap of his fingers, he could turn the wood elf's hair into _cinders_. **"I can take care of myself."**

Karma saw fit for him to fall from three metres up this time.

Wonders whined, hissing through grit teeth. **"...** _ **Muuuuuuum!"**_

Filling in the role and answering his summons, the bored looking housecarl waltzed over to him with a squeal of wood on wood. Veering off ever so slightly to the right, she eventually flopped into a kneel by his side and almost collapsed on top of him.

The Argonian pulled himself up like a fat man on a pulley system, a bit of blood racing down his snout and breaking for cover under the bridge of his nostrils. **"Oh look, blood."** he said matter of factly, rubbing at the back of his head and ruffling his minuscule mane. Gathering a fair bit, he calmly wiped it on Faelindra's face somewhat aggressively. **"** _ **War paint**_ **."** he nodded.

As expected that caused her to teeter forward and land rather gracelessly on his chest. You could probably twist a few legs, do a few retcons and make it a _really_ romantic and character developing moment if you had the time and patience. But unfortunately this was reality. And in reality, the pair were more pissed than a Stormcloak brewmaster getting divorced on payday. **"Hey Wonders..."** Faelindra cooed, drumming her fingers on his collarbone. It sounded like a pair of claves, much to her mild terror. **"Got any ideas?"** she slurred, doing her best mockery of a flirty voice whilst already being drunk. The end result would've filled her inbox with letters from theatres across Tamriel. **"... Bah, who am I kidding. You? Ideas?"**

A pout from Wonders was all that he needed to convey a rainbow of emotions. The claret just made that rainbow even more colourful.

Faelindra sat up - on his stomach - and found her feet - on his stomach - in record time, trying her best to pull him with her. **"Come on, let's get you to the... Healing person."**

 **"No, no, we can't do that."** Wonders warned, letting go of her hands mid-pull and conking his head against the floorboards with an agonising clunk. If his collarbone sounded like a clave, his skull sounded like a broken glockenspiel. He spoke regardless. **"I've been there too many times, she'd give me a funny look."** he said. After a few moments, he added a non-committed **"Ow."** to the sentence.

She snarled more with shared irritation than spite, understanding his plight twofold. It was like walking past someone on the street and sharing one of those really awkward _"good morning"_ chuckles, only to remember that you'd left something back at home. Could you truly turn around and go past them _again?_ Not even _draugr_ had such mindless bravado. **"Then how about the guards barracks?"** she offered instead, **"We have some medical stuff."**

Of course he objected. Why wouldn't he? **"Civilians aren't allowed in unless an explicit threat's been made to them and they need shelter."**

He was looking mighty punchable right now, which was saying something since no one on Nirn could say that he had a lovely set of chops. **"Okay, go to the guards barracks or I'll punch you in the face."** she explicitly threatened, hauling him to his feet like the bag'o'swag of a robber. **"Come on, you've got more blood on your hands than Titus Mede after skinning a badger. How could you refuse?"**

 **"I don't know, give me a minute."** the magician said, scratching at the itchy red around his snout. To put it bluntly, he absolutely _despised_ the living tits off doctors. He didn't like turning his head and coughing, he didn't like having them shine candlelight spells down his throat, and he certainly didn't like them examining injuries only to say " _hmmm_ " and move on. What in Oblivion does " _hmmm_ " even mean? Does it mean it's terminal? That it tickled his fancy? Eventually he pulled out a flat refusal from his quiver. **"The guards won't take kindly to me being there."**

The housecarl fumed, resting her hands on her belt like a novelty sheriff at a stag do. **"There's a word for people like you. '** _ **Pedantic git**_ **'."**

 **"That's two words actually."** Wonders corrected necessarily, much to the Bosmer's chagrin. **"Look, they say time is a great healer. Unless you've lost your legs, in which case you're pretty hopeless."** he argued, flashing his drink like illegal black market goods. **"A couple of boozies will be enough."**

Too disinterested to even bother arguing at this point, Faelindra helped haul his battered body back to the table. He'd taken a rather hefty beating tonight; no doubt he was used to it. Eventually flopping back down where they'd started, the two checked their flagons in unison. They were both fifteen-year-old-forehead levels of dry. Hadn't she just refilled them? **"We're all out. No rolls, no drinks."** she sighed, looking under her tankard to make sure none of the mead was hiding down there. **"The Imperial Army has better supply lines than us."**

Wonders fidgeted and squirmed on his seat like an unruly child, eventually ending up sitting side-saddle like a spoken word singer doing karaoke. **"Do you want another drink?"**

" **Yeah."** Faelindra nodded.

 **"Good, can you get one for me too?"** Wonders asked, duping her like the master craftsman he was.

 **"Okay."** the Bosmer missed the point entirely, falling right into his trap. Grabbing both of their flagons, she rose to her feet with sudden agility - no doubt brought on by her current state of drink - and pulled off a rather classy and fluid vault over the bar. The sort that appeared in every action story ever.

Now that she thought about it, maybe it was a better idea to keep Wonders around here after all? They'd probably both fall asleep on the pavement if they took a walk across Whiterun at such an ungodly hour, and she'd rather not wake up drooling on a comatose Argonian's lap with half of her organs harvested. That was a level of public disgrace even she couldn't handle.

Taking a few moments to try and figure out how kegs worked for the fourth time tonight, she eventually jammed a knife into one and caught the resulting leak. She returned holding two frothy drinks, with a couple of wood shavings on top to give their bowels a challenge.

As she took her seat and the pair partook in their beverages, she shot a glance through one of the _Mares_ few serviceable windows. She'd always loved the look of cities at night, all lit up with rows of torches under the watchful gaze of _Masser_ and _Secunda_ in the night's sky. What some people called " _light_ _pollution_ " she called " _light... Not-pollution..._ " **"Nice night."**

 **"I mean besides the fact someone got stabbed, I guess so."** Wonders agreed, trying to find an angle where he didn't start bleeding into his mug. He wasn't too bothered about a mead-and-wood mixer, but adding blood to it? Talk about _uncouth_. **"A pretty good night."**

 **"Do you think they're fine?"** Faelindra questioned, **"In one piece?"** she was thinking about the pair of mercs that had swept through the tavern like a hurricane. They'd gone suspiciously quiet after a few minutes. Perhaps they'd ran out of energy and found a bush to nap in?

 **"Fine? Yes."** Wonders confirmed, **"One piece? Not a chance."** he concluded. He crossed his legs like a forty-odd uncle trying to hide an unwelcome erection in the presence of his young nephew, a little bit saddened that he and his mistress " _the wall_ " hadn't finished their little fencing duel. Combine that with the rampant headache that was pounding his brain like it was bread dough, and it justified the dorky groans he was letting off like horker songs. **"... It's not like I want to die, I just want life to _stop_ for a little bit. Can I do that?"**

Faelindra bowed her head in respect, hitting it against the table with a flat " _ow_ ". **"Be my guest."** she said, her voice muffled ever so slightly. **"Just make sure to tuck yourself away neatly in a corner or something. Don't want you to be a tripping hazard for other pedestrians at this fine establishment and winery."**

The Argonian teetered for a moment, his rebellious tongue all flaccid and gloopy. **"... How do you big words after so much mead?"**

 **"It helps my thinker."** the wood elf revealed to the presses, pushing through the metaphorical crowd to reach her horse and carriage. **"The more I drink, the more sense it makes."**

 _That made sense._

 _And if it didn't, just drink more._

Taken aback by Faelindra's words, the magician stared at the flat of her forehead. Was this a new form of life? How fascinating. How _extraordinary_. **"What's it thinking right now?"** he tested, like he was dipping his toes into a steaming bath surrounded by lava. **"Your thinker, I mean."**

 **"Oh nothing. Just that I'm a stupid little creature with no particular talents who's getting drunk right now because she can't face the fact that nothing's ever gone right in her life."** she shrugged matter-of-factly, her spine lax. **"And it's telling me how my mum never loved me, and that I'll never win the one who was made for me, and that there's a bit of puke on my boots, and that in a couple of drinks times I'll be fluent in ancient Nordic, and..."**

 **"Life is a fickle thing. One moment you're riding high, only to be shot down later on."** Wonders butted in to her little existentialist rant, partially in order to make her feel better but mostly to stop her lips from flapping. " **But I know that you can change that tune, and be right on to-"** Wonders suddenly spluttered on a chunk of old sweet roll that must've been taking refuge at the back of his gob. He straightened himself out like a Jarl after a streaker had just come on stage mid-speech. **"Right on top real soon."**

The stare that Faelindra gave him was best described as " _discombobulated_ ". The fact that it was the first word that came to mind just goes to show the level of bewilderment this little display was giving her. Of course she raised an eyebrow, not that you'd need to know at this point. Wonders rose to his feet with his flagon hand, getting his legs in the air and doing some sort of weird half-dance that you'd expect to see at a family meet up.

 **"That's life, Bosmer."** he put bluntly, singing in a spoken word form. **"And as funny as it may seem. Some people get their kicks stomping on your dreams. But never let it... _Uhhh_... Let it get you down! Yeah, that's right."** he said in monotone, drawing towards the epic finale. **"'cause Tamriel... Something or other... Spinning around."**

Wonders stood there for a moment to let what had just occurred sink in. It had just happened. It really, _really_ had. It was something they were both having trouble grasping. The pair coughed at the exact same time to try and clear the air, before the Argonian made to sit back down in abject shame. The elf shook her head, **"And to think... We used to do everything sober."**

Pushing her flagon towards her, Wonders rolled his eyes. **"Come on, drink until you feel like you did the right thing."**

 **"Drink? I'm _heartbroken_!"** she exclaimed, trying to point out his lapse in logic as if he was telling the homeless to get jobs. **"How do you expect me to drink?!"**

It was pretty obvious what his reply would be. **"By putting it against your mouth and swallowing."** he teased, feeling quite clever for his use of hyperbole. At least he thought it was hyperbole. Wasn't it? **"If you can't breathe, stop. I won't look down on you."**

Her mind treading in pubescent territory, she picked up on a few specific words and brought them to the topic of Stradlater. Imagine the sort of things they could've done together? All they'd stuck to was the traditional pantheon-approved method of boring and practical sex. The thought that some people had sex _just_ to have children and extracted no joy from it whatsoever was mildly horrifying.

 **"Hehheh..."** she snickered, her sexuality having one of its moments. It would've been pretty sexy to try _that,_ wouldn't it? Why, she was so short and Stradlater so tall she'd probably be able to do it _standing up_. Of course eventually those feelings faded, and it was only the Redguard and her regrets that remained. **"... I'm sad now."**

 **"That's fine, that's fine. We all go through that phase."** Wonders reassured, sounding a bit like an erotic painter trying to encourage a naive first timer posing nude on top of a freshly slain sabre tooth lion. **"Just turn that sadness into hate. What's something you hate?"**

 **"You."**

 **"Me."** the Argonian echoed instantly, flicking the back of his teeth. **"Okay, what's something else you hate? Dreughs? Ever seen Dreughs?"**

 **"Those weird crab things in Cyrodil?"** she asked, to which he nodded. Yeah, she knew them. **"A cousin of mine from Anvil said he had crabs once. I laughed at first, but then he was mutilated by a pack of them."**

Wonders grimaced. **"By the Hist, that sounds awful."**

 **"To put it simply, he could never pick his nose again."** the Bosmer sighed, shaking her head. What a waste.

 **"They cut off his hands?"**

 **"No, they cut off his nose."** she corrected, placing a thumb on her finger which had been tapping her chin. So in short, her thumb on her chin from a certain point of view. **"... Oh, and his hands too actually."**

 **"Grotesque little monsters."** he snarled, pausing. **"... _Big_ monsters..."** he corrected, as you should. **"Scuttling around, rubbing their claws together and stockpiling loot. I'd exterminate the lot of them. Do the world a favour."**

 **"Would that be your final solution?"** she asked. Wonders nodded, which was reasonable enough. The only people who loved Dreughs were readers of that weird " _Drew the Dreugh_ " animal love magazine from High Rock. Those Bretons were all about taboo fetishes, weren't they? **"... I honestly don't know how we went from having a few drinks to waging war against all Dreughs, but here we are."**

Wonders returned to his pint, trying to scour his mind for how many he'd had tonight. He'd honestly lost count of his tab, not that he'd ever kept track of it. **"... How're we gonna pay for all these drinks?"**

 **" _We_?"** Faelindra repeated, placing a hand on her chest. **"I thought it was all you."**

 **"Miss Housecarl, are you trying to take advantage of me in my inebriated state?"** the Argonian too put his hand on his chest with the same feminine grace. For some unsettling reason, it suited him more than the actual woman in the room.

Faelindra quickly made to explain herself. Perhaps too quickly. **"Well, usually it's the bloke who buys."** she said matter-of-factly. She wasn't entirely fond of the whole concept what with the sexism involved, but hey; if she could guilt someone into getting her free drinks, she didn't mind a bit of scumbaggery. **"Just one of those things."**

 **"You mistake me for someone with common decency."** he grinned, deflecting her appeal to his humanity. There were no humans in this room, after all. **"I mean I could pay for all this, of course... But still."**

 **"Really? Honestly?"** Faelindra pressed, calling his bluff. **"What job have you got then?"**

 _Drat._

 **"I... Uhhh..."** the Argonian stalled, staring at the wall for moral support. All of the money he earned was from adventuring. He generally took a majority cut from all the loot he and Stradlater found, the Redguard being too passive and negligent to protest against their status quo. He spent a lot of time counting out coins in the open of the _Mare_ , his vanity on full display to the laymen that flooded the place. The issue was, all he ever spent it on was enchanted finery. Enchanted finery that he _never_ used. **"Finance... Counting... Distribution. I'm in stocks."**

 **"I wish."** she snickered, folding her arms in a way that would accentuate her bust if she had much of one to accommodate. **"I could throw tomatoes at you then."**

He'd never done this before, but Wonders was honestly thinking about what sort of job he could reasonably do. Did he have many skills that could see use in the holds of Skyrim? You know, outside of bludgeoning things? **"... Can you put "** _ **designated rider**_ **" on a resume?"**

 **"Can you ride?"** Faelindra quizzed. He shook his head. **"Can you designate?"** she continued. He paused for a few moments, only to shake again. **"Then no."**

 **" _Balls_."** Wonders said what was on his mind. Whatever he was thinking about, it was probably appropriate. **"How about contacts?"** he pried, **"I might be connected to an ancient king you know. They say I have noble blood."**

 _In a container, under his mattress._

 _Right next to the woman's underwear._

 _Don't worry, they weren't his._

 **"You're a joke. A grossed out slime-ball that wouldn't be able to get a job if he was the last person on Nirn and** _ **you**_ **were hiring** _ **yourself.**_ **"** Faelindra spat in barely contained disgust. In a different context, with him flat on his back, her insults might've been a tad bit sexy. She was wearing leather after all.

 **"... Well!"** Wonders exclaimed, doing his best to think of a witty comeback. None came, although his flagon certainly looked mighty appetising. He took a slurp, before repeating himself. **"...** _ **Well**_ **!"**

 **"Maybe a spy..."** the Bosmer thought aloud, trying to give him a chance. **"Although you'd be terrible at it."**

 **"A spy?"** he nodded approvingly, flexing his shoulders coolly. Spies and rogues always wore those cool black cloaks and posed like gargoyles a lot. That'd be pretty freakin' fun - like spending a night in a jungle gym. **"What makes you say that?"**

 **"I mean you're watching women twenty-four seven."** she noted, fumbling for her drink. **"Do you know how many restraining orders we get filed daily on you? We got so many six days back that we had to go to the store to pick up more ink."** she revealed, shaking her head as if to say " _boys will be boys_ ". **"And they were all from the** _ **same**_ **person."**

He had to scour his mind for a bit for this one. _Six days_ , _six days_... Six days ago he'd been observing an Imperial woman doing her gardening. It was innocent enough; he was just a fellow outsider admiring her handiwork. All he did was insinuate that he'd loved to have had those hands working on him, only for her to suddenly throw a major wobbler and have her husband chase him off with the sharp end of an axe handle. Talk about uptight, the metropolitan prude! **"... Oh _that_."**

 **"Yes, _that_."** she snickered with contempt, which was quite the contradiction honestly. **"I believe the phrase "** _ **stalking lizard**_ **" was used."**

 **"I prefer the term "** _ **tender watcher**_ **"."** Wonders replied, getting nothing but a sickened look for his trouble. **"Oh come on, she wanted to love me. She just didn't know it yet!"**

Shudders sent ripples across the surface of her ale. **"Absolutely disgusting."**

 **"You're no fun. I'll consult my friend mead on this matter."** Wonder sighed, glugging down an entire flagon quicker than an Orcish warchief in bed. He gasped loudly, having trouble keeping it all down.

Faelindra suddenly belched, shouting **"** _ **Pekoni!"**_ before exhaling. Wasn't that Nordic? **"... Ooohhh gods..."**

Wonders sighed in defeat. There was a reason why he put on such a hostile and bitter exterior to everyone and their grandmother. No one ever truly seemed to understand the _real_ Wonders, and who he _really_ was. Yes, he'd admit, he was a _little_ bit weird. But then what made normal so desirable? You'd get more variety in a Breton's pick'n'mix.

 _Wine soup, wine salad, and a bit of wine crumble on the side._

His abject expression was shared by the woman opposite, who too was dwelling on the harsh facts of the day. Of course she was still looming over the best and worst day of her life. If she'd done some things differently, would it have ended in her favour? **"... I was such an** _ **idiot**_ **back then."** she groaned critically, **"Maybe I was too clingy, or... Or _something_."**

 **"I'll be honest with you."** Wonders began. She was honestly expecting him to say that she was still an idiot today, but she couldn't be arsed to object. **"I too would punch the twenty year old version of myself in the face, then have rough sex with him."**

Believe it or not, some stares are so harsh that you can actually hear them. Where on Nirn did that come from? **"... That's just you."**

 **"Is it?"** the mage mumbled, as if waking from a deep sleep. **"Well I be, it is."** he realised, tugging at his collar for air. He tried his best to return to Agony Argonian mode, but the damage was already done. **"Look** **, when I was twenty I made a _lot_ of choices with my crotch which I'm weirdly proud of and-"**

 **"Yes dear,** _ **shhhh**_ **."** the housecarl interrupted, patting his hand condescendingly. Placating him for the moment, she actually found herself getting a bit teary eyed. Either she'd suddenly gained hay fever within the last few seconds and was under assault from an unknown assailant, or she was having a minor emotional crisis. She'd prefer the former, but you know what her luck is like. **"... I-I just want him** _ **so**_ **much..."**

Tankards sound a lot like nails on blackboards if you push them the right way. **"You're not drinking."** Wonders pointed out, nudging her drink into her palms. **"Drink."**

Mouthing the words " _yes_ " and " _of course_ ", she returned to mindlessly glugging. Drink it all away, Fae. You're here to forget aren't you? She lowered her drink, dabbing her lips with the fabric of her cuff. Stradlater had called her " _Fae_ " that night, hadn't he? No one had ever called her that, not even ma or pa. He _loved_ to say it in such an amusing, sing-song voice.

 _Fae, Fae_ , _lovely Fae._

 _Fae, Fae, with eyes like a sunny day._

There weren't many appropriate words that rhymed with Fae, but somehow he'd made it work. Gods, she was _horny_. **"... Nope, still want to shag him."**

 **"Drink more. Mead gives you strength."** the Argonian pointed out. There were two things that fueled the layman - the love of family, and a heck of a lot of beer. **"And if that fails, I always have a couple of charm spells up my sleeves."**

That's right, he was a mage. For a moment there she thought he just dressed up as a tit because he was one. He often looked like an old crone who'd go around offering fresh apples to damsels. A bit weird how he hung about Stradlater in that regard. **"I thought Redguards hated magic."** she noted, **"What about Stradlater?"**

 **"Oh trust me, he hates magic alright. Always goes on about how shoddy mine is."** Wonders said.

Faelindra's head tilted. **"I don't understand, why is he okay with it?"**

 **"Because** _ **he**_ **understands that when in Cyrodil, do as the Imperials do. Just because you don't agree doesn't give you any right to stop someone from doing what they're doing."**

This surprised her to say the least. He almost sounded like he was _admiring_ the Redguard. **"Even you?"**

 **"God no, I never said** _ **I**_ **agreed with him."** he scoffed degenerately, dismissing her hunch within an instant. Someone as self-righteous as Wonders certainly wouldn't change the way he lived for the sake of cultural sensitivity. **"But the Redguard is about as thick as an orc's first dump of the day."**

Part of the warrior's allure was his simplicity, she found. She'd never met a man so straight laced and passive in her life. So methodical and calm. So disengaged with the troubles of the world. Maybe that's what she needed? A stable ground to secure her own confused, stormy mind; a lighthouse amidst the wild sea.

 _A dyke to her raging flood._

 _Wow, what a badly worded metaphor._

 **"Call me a psychic."** Wonders crooned, ready to dispense some grade-A wisdom courtesy of the testicles of Black Marsh. **"But something tells me that you didn't hate that night."**

 _Well bloody done._

 _How drunk were they?_

She'd been convincing herself to hate that evening for four long years. It was about time that she stopped. **"Spending the night with him made me realize that stupid people both irritate and fascinate me."** she exhaled. True Stradlater was a bit dense. But it was in a _good_ way. **"So I'd say it equalled itself out. "**

 **"So I'm right?"** his grin was as big as his arse.

Faelindra wasn't all that eager to outright agree with him. Baby steps were a given. **"... No you're not, you're Silent-He-Wonders."**

It was a bad joke. In his eyes, that was a surrender in everything but words. Wonders did the appropriate gesture of raising his arms in victory and bellowing " _loser_ " in a myriad of different comedic voices. He leaned back with his arms behind his head, resembling a swimwear model if they were starring in a comedy horror production called " _The Lizardmen Part VII, Reloaded_ ". Of course he fell clear off his seat eventually - that was the risk of sitting side saddle.

The Bosmer stayed seated for her own safety. She didn't bother looking over to check on him; her gut of beer was too volatile to take such a risk. She raised her voice. **"Get up."**

 **"I just love it. It's warm and soft and the rest of the world is so mean. The floor would _never_ be mean to me."** his muffled voice cooed ever so quietly. The table rocked slightly as he flopped his legs about, trying to find a comfy position. **"... Leave me alone. I'm becoming one with nature and doing plant things."**

Rolling her eyes once again she carefully got to her feet, shuffled past his photosynthesising head and the pool of drool he was producing, and leant her back against the counter to face him like a working girl. Unlike a working girl, she drank from her tankard like a hairy Nord.

Wonders bent his neck at a painful angle to make eye contact **. "You're drinking a lot."** he said, looking like the victim of a carriage hit and run. The bloodied skull only seemed to add to the allusion. **"Sure you haven't got a drinking problem?"**

 **"Me? Drinking problem?"** she chuckled forcefully for a straight thirty seconds, before awkwardly trying to drink - and tossing the entire tankard's contents over her shoulder. Scowling, she poured another. **"I can stop at any time. Don't worry about me, or the state of my mind."**

 **"It's the state of the _floor_ I'm worried about."** the Argonian murmured, rubbing his newfound lover. No doubt the wall would be having a word with him sometime soon about the lipstick on his collar. **"I wasn't worrying about you."**

Casually the pair continued to slurp from their drinks - an achievement for the books in Wonders case as he somehow managed to drink on his back without actually spilling anything. Faelindra started to feel a peculiar warmth in her chest as she downed another, as well as in her loins. If you were that interested in it, you slimy pervert. Oh _boy_ , she'd gotten past the angsty stage alright. **"... Wonders?"**

 **"Me?"**

Running her finger along the rim of her drink like a fussy mother dusting she tried to cross her legs in a seductive manner, only for them to get tangled all clumsily. **"You've dated before... Haven't you?"**

Was she aware? Was this a mockery? Dear Hist, was she coming on to him? **"... If by '** _ **dated**_ **' you mean** _ **'wooed women with my innate charm and gotten a free shag**_ **', then yes."** he kept his cool, **"Yes I have."**

She frowned. **"How do you do it?"** somehow her finger had erotic connotations, which just went to show how little the pair got. **"How do you...** _ **Innate charm**_ **... People?"**

 **"Oh, it's quite a simple process."** he said like a surgeon, writhing on the floor to try and stand. He looked like a tortoise stuck on its back, or someone getting changed in a hurry at four in the morning. **"First things first, gotta get that musk flowing."**

 **"Musk?"**

 **"You know, your hormonal glands?"** Wonders reminded, **"Get those suckers smellier than a Nord's armpit hair."**

Faelindra should've been taken aback by this sudden lesson in Argonian physiology, but she was in the flirty stage of intoxication. This all made sense to her somehow. **"Musk, Nordic armpit mode,** _ **kyllä.**_ **"**

 **"Bless you."** Wonders said, not missing a beat.

The elf nodded. **"Thank you."**

 **"Next, wag that tail."** his own swayed from side to side enthusiastically, its drunken gait adding to the display. **"Gotta show them its length and strength. Slap a bitch with it if they're into that, gets them all steamy."**

This idea had no drawbacks. She was taking notes. **"Slap a bitch, excellent."**

 **"Then you..."** suddenly he came to an impasse, his tongue wiggling between the restraints of his teeth. **"... I don't know, I've usually been detained at that point."** he concluded, reaching his knees. **"Why do you ask?"**

She pulled up a mead bottle, holding it between her thighs as she reached for its cork. **"I don't know, it's just..."** the housecarl clumsily fiddled with the top, pumping at the neck experimentally. **"... I just want nice things, and good sex."**

Wonders acknowledged her desires respectfully. **"Few nobler pursuits. The Redguard?"** he questioned, sitting up and propping his back against the leg of their table. She nodded, licking her lips with effort as she continued to tug. She knew that if she kept working at it, it'd shoot its load eventually. **"We all know that one person we just get sexually frustrated looking at."**

 _Pop!_

The mead cork flew off with a surge of white froth, covering the floor with sticky alcohol. Exhaling with satisfaction, she swigged from the bottle needily like a bum down on her luck. **"Four years..."** she murmured, **"... That's a big number, four."** the mead was already down to half. **" _Very_ long time."**

The mage tapped his fingers together like a greedy Dreugh. **"I-I wouldn't know."**

 **"Do you know what I fancy right about now?"** Faelindra thought aloud, prompting a disinterested " _mmm_ " from the Argonian. **"A big, oiled weightlifter from Sentinel with biceps as big as a mammoth."**

Blink, blink. **"I've come to the conclusion,"** the green bloke pondered, **"that you're feeling a** _ **little**_ **bit frisky."**

 **"I know it didn't mean anything. I know it lasted as long as a merchant's breakfast..."** she started, her flirty lust competing with genuine affection. It was like an argument between a husband and wife over the obligatory weekly shag. **"But right there and then, pissed off my head... He meant the _world_ to me." ** she swigged, sucked her lower lip, and put the mostly empty bottle down - missing the table by a full yard. It tumbled to the floor and loudly spilled in a puddle of yellow. **"Thank god I'm sober at the moment!"**

 _Glug, glug, glug, glug..._

To say that he was nauseated by the concept of love would be an understatement. Faelindra's words were somehow turning him a slightly different shade of green, which made all the difference in a species that looks practically identical in every way save for colour. He felt disgusted, and not just because his vision looked like a shattered stain window.

She regretted how sarcastic and rude she'd been towards the Redguard when they'd reunited at _Dragonsreach_. But she'd been confused and taken aback. She _still_ was. His injuries were horrific. She'd hardly recognised him on the day, even his voice sounding darker and wearier. No doubt whatever horrors he went through that caused such pain had scarred his mind equally.

Not that he'd ever show it, the fool.

Some small part of her just wanted to rest his head on her lap, brush through his hair and whisper sweetly that it would all be alright. That everything would be okay. Maybe that would be enough to make amends.

Wonders shook to his feet on brittle legs like a toddler finding his feet, stumbling forward towards the woman mid-revelation. **"Faelindra."** he muttered, saying her name for the first time. This had to be serious if it was on a name-basis. **"I've got a confession to make."**

The mer was too drunk to actually process the magnitude and significance of the situation. There was only one other person the Argonian called by name, and even then only in times of great importance. **"Is it for the stalking charges?"** she snarked, her newfound clarity doing its best to untangle her legs. **"The office is open tomorrow... _Today_ , in the morning... I think... Drop by then to make a statement."**

 **"No, no..."** the Argonian slurred, **"Hold on to something, because I'm about to** _ **rock**_ **your** _ **world**_ **."**

Faelindra gave him a once-over. **"... You're not my type."**

Missing the comment, Wonders lurched forward and barely caught himself on the counter. He shook his head in a way that just reeked of self-loathing. **"... That story was a lie."** he revealed dramatically, **"The Altmer girl...** _ **Pah**_ **, like that'd ever happen."** he snickered bitterly. **"I didn't smash her,** _ **she**_ **smashed** _ **me.**_ **"**

It was an important moment, but the two couldn't resist a childish chortle over his choice of words.

Back to business. **"I'm a liar. A hypocrite, a scumbag..."** Wonders listed out his best traits word for word, **"And there isn't a single person in Nirn who actually likes me."**

Of course the housecarl was quick to comfort him. **"Well to be fair, you're an insufferable prat."**

 **"Cheers."**

 **"But you've got your pluses."**

 **"Really?"** Wonders blinked, his voice gaining a layer of childish enthusiasm. He tried to push himself up in one motion, yet he looked like a puny wimp doing pushups. Which was essentially what he was. **"Like what?"**

 **"Your..."** Faelindra paused, **"Erm..."** she paused again, rewinding a few times just to add to it. **"... Your tail's pretty...** _ **Sizeable**_ **."**

Too drunk to move it properly, Wonders ended up wiggling his tush cum money-maker rather suggestively to accentuate the appendage. **"Mum always said the girls would like me for it."** he sighed, yanking his own bottle from the counter. **"Someday I'll meet a woman who will love me for my** _ **marvellous**_ **tail and ignore my many character faults."**

Faelindra had once thought that she could live her life on her own, drinking and patrolling, drinking and patrolling, for centuries never-ending. But what sort of life is that? In the end, no one can survive and thrive on their own. Not in the slightest.

She and Wonders were alike in that respect. Two lost souls with no friends to call their own, doing nothing at all productive with their miserable stinking lives. All they wanted was a reason to keep going. And something deep within her knew that it all came back to that peculiar Redguard, blackened and charred.

Her shoulders slackened, **"We're losers, aren't we?"**

Finally achieving the unimaginable, Wonders span around against the counter and put his back on it. **"Yes."** he agreed forlornly, mimicking her posture. **"But at least it's easier to fail with someone else to share the weight."**

The two raised their empty flagons and clinked them together in yet another toast.

This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

They kept up the heavy drinking for another hour, holding a couple of burping competitions, spelling contests - the usual cheeky drunken banter. The entire _Mare_ had opened her legs for them, and it was only proper that they respected her wishes and emptied her of every single pint she had in store. They'd even offered a few pints to that unconscious Nord by their table, but still he didn't respond. That was a little bit rude.

Speech was becoming a tad bit more difficult, each syllable needing extra TLC. **"Ever been tooooooo..."** Faelindra held onto the note, keeping her spree going. **"... Ooooooooooo.** _ **Ooo**_ **."** she continued, before snapping into action. **"...** _ **Solitude**_ **?"**

Where the blazes was Solitude? He was an Archmage, he must've been there before. **"I've been drunk every time I've gone to Solitude."** he settled on reasonably, **"I do not remember Solitude."** a memory then found itself surfacing. The memory of a very distinct looking codpiece. **"... Wait,** _ **Norman**_ **!"**

 **"Norman?"** Faelindra echoed the peculiar name. He must've been a Breton; they always went for such strange monikers, and never stuck to the classics like " _Artorius_ " or " _Dungorrelle_ ".

He could roughly recall the lap dancer of the _Peppermint Spriggan,_ and the embarrassing case of misidentification that led to him hiring the hairy man for an hour session. Whether it was those memories or something else entirely, he began to feel a rumble in his gut. **"Histskin, that...** _ **Ugh**_ **..."** he sputtered, **"Bugger me..."**

 **"Out here, in public?"** Faelindra snickered, congratulating herself for such a quick-witted reply. She still had her smarts, even when she was full of nothing but cheap mead.

Partially deaf in one of his earhole thingies, Wonders clumsily sat up atop the counter. **"I'm just gonna have a lie down..."** he whined, before flopping down face first onto his stomach. It was so freakin' _comfy_ , it blew what was left of his mind away. He'd stumbled across a gold mine; had anyone else ever tried this?

 _There was a patent with his name on it._

Faelindra was still hanging on that " _bugger me_ " comment, wondering if the Argonian - on his front with his arse out and exposed to enemy fire - was giving her an invitation. Jeez, what was he? Drunk? Concerned with his sorry state, she pulled out a stool and sat next to him.

 **"Feels like there's a..."** he tried his best to be sarcastic, but the wells were dry. He was in far too much pain to think straight. And this was someone who'd continued to snark whilst having his face punched in by a burly merc not too long ago. **"...** _ **Stomach**_ **..."**

Back pats were in order, and she provided. **"There there."** she purred sedately, idly sneaking a peek out of the window at something indiscriminate. **"There. There...** _ **There**_ **."**

Wonders stirred with what little strength he had, **"Where?"**

 **"There!"** she exclaimed, giving him a mighty pat that greater resembled a haymaker.

 **"The-"** the Argonian upchucked behind the counter before he could finish his first word, groaning in agony as all sorts of goo and gunk poured out of his favourite hole. That was his mouth, by the way. He didn't know what he feared more; the stuff coming out of him, or the woman laying the smackdown on his spinal column.

Absently Faelindra continued to rub and massage his back, smiling goofily all happy and lovely whilst he whimpered in agony. She soon began to alternate between rubs and pats, creating a disjointed tune that didn't help his constitution in the slightest. Then, for some fangled reason that would only make sense in a corny children's novel in a very specific set of circumstances, she started to _sing._ At least he thought it was singing; it could've been a fascist speech rallying all Bosmer to " _The Invasion_ " for all he knew _._

 **"Makeasti oravainen, makaa sammalhuoneessansa..."** she said in some peculiar language.

 _"Bleeerrgh!"_

 **"Sinnepä ei Hallin hammas, eikä metsämiehen ansa."** Faelindra rubbed a circle. **"Ehtineet milloinkaan.**

 _"Uuuuurggh!"_

 _"_ **Kammiostaan korkeasta** _,_ **katselee hän mailman piirii..."**

 _"Gaaaaarbluh!"_

 **"Taisteloa allans´ monta, havu-oksan rauhan-viiri."** she patted his lower back. **"Päällänsä liepoittaa, mikä elo onnellinen..."**

 _"Sweet lord, there is no God!"_

 **"Keinuvassa kehtolinnas!"** she shouted, kneading him like dough - only with a red-hot poker.

 _"Only the dead shall know peace from this evil!"_

Now the housecarl was just humming, having entirely forgotten the lyrics. She was glad that if there was one thing she could take from today, it was the ability to speak fluent Nordic and sing Bosmeri lullabies in a language she knew nothing about. A pity that in a few hours time, she'd probably forget the entire day.

 **"... I-I** _ **think**_ **I'm empty now..."** Wonders slurped, goop all over face and snot ringing his nostrils. **"Life is... No longer worth living."**

The backrub continued, much to his chagrin. He didn't object out of fear to be perfectly frank. If she was this violent when she was being kind, what was she like when you got on her bad side? Still, he managed to adjust in due time. It even started to feel quite comforting once you tuned out the agony. Eventually Wonders began to snore, chunks of gunk noisily fluttering in the wind.

Faelindra, the reins still in mead's hands, had an idea.

Collecting the shiniest objects she could muster, and any others that tickled her fancy, she began to encircle Wonder's body. The meaning wasn't particularly clear at the moment, but she was sure that after she finished encasing his body in random clutter it'd all make sense.

After the fifth or sixth attempt at finishing the first row without knocking them all over in a chain reaction, the door creaked open with a fed-up whine. She spun around to see who it was, toppling her work _again._

 _It was Stradlater._

The Redguard warrior stared at her for a moment, as if she were a cleric who'd been caught with her pants down mid-way through a sinful orgy. She blinked a few times, sending liquid sputtering onto the floor like sprinkling rain from her eyelashes.

Then she burst into a mess of goofy guffaws, her trembling body struggling to keep her upright. She actually toppled off her stool after a few seconds of this, flopping onto the floor like a bag of beans. Faelindra continued to laugh as she rolled over onto her back, laying in what Stradlater sincerely hoped was a puddle of stale, urine-smelling lager.

The Bosmeri tried to reach up and tug at Wonder's baggy sleeve, staring at Stradlater as she spoke with a slurred tone. **"He leaves home for a few... Uhhh...** ** _Days_** **... And** ** _look_** **!** _ **Look**_ **what happens!"** she giggled, continuing to pull at the unconscious mage's robe. **"... You're right, he... He really, really,** _ **really...**_ **Really really** _ **does**_ **look like a slapped arse when he's surprised!"**

Sighing in mild exasperation, Stradlater heaved the door shut in his wake - causing an assortment of freshly announced knives that adorned it to clatter onto the pavement like the insides of a storage cupboard after an hour of packing. He whipped off his cloak and slung it over his shoulder, wriggling his nose with contempt.

 _You know what they say._

 _"Nothing like home sweet home."_

Wonders retched grotesquely, hocking a loogie the size of a giant's testicle. Like an ordinary person, he came to and stared down at the masterpiece that he had painted on to ground with his own gut soup. **"... I've _never_ eaten this much carrot in my entire life."**

X

 _(A/N): All in all, I feel this story idea was sort of doomed from the start :/_

 _The entire premise was based around banter and antics with no clear direction on purpose, with the hope that it'd produce quite a funny experience. Alas, it didn't work out. I suppose you need to have an objective in a story to keep it flowing nice and consistently :P_

 _Oh well, at least we got to get a peek at the lives of Wonders and Faelindra! All those bits of "ancient Nordic" are actually Finnish, with that little lullaby at one point being from a Finnish song about a squirrel who lives life in a tree without worrying about the issues of the world... SORT OF LIKE OUR PROTAGONISTS, EH? CHECK OUT MAH SYMBOLISM_

 _Anyway, not quite sure what I'll be writing next but I do plan to do three TES fics a year... Meaning there's hopefully gonna be another this year! Until them, might take a bit of a break. Results day in a few weeks. Taa taa! D:_


End file.
